the Familiar Film
by Bug Catcher Nakata
Summary: Film the history of VFD in an aboveground basement studio, co-starring Count Olaf & the Quagmires - what could go wrong? Violet thinks the Weather Machine is the key, if only she could figure out how it works, while Klaus wants to use the film to trap Olaf. Meanwhile, are they really safe under the Vaporous Flame Dampeners? Can they keep control of their own narrative?
1. The Inadequate Imitation

[[[AN: This story takes place after the Grim Grotto, and assumes some slight changes so that the Baudelaires get into a taxi with Mr Poe after that book. I can't promise that it's totally free of spoilers, but I've tried to make it so. Certainly nothing from the last two books. I'm going to post a new chapter every two or three weeks, it's mostly written (or at least drafted) but I am more than happy to incorporate feedback :) ]]]

There is a lot of fan fiction on the internet much more pleasant than this one. As such, I am duty-bound to suggest that you immediately close this browser window and shift your attention to something less demoralising, such as an alternative website or - should you be lucky enough to have any - to your friends, family and loved ones. What follows is the treacherous tale of the Baudelaire orphans' experiences in several unpleasant situations, which I'm sorry to say include artificial weather, mirrors, a roll of celluloid and a deck of playing cards. Decks of playing cards are not generally considered unpleasant, unless somebody is brandishing them at you in an unpleasant way because you are threatening to escape out the window of a vegetarian restaurant. However, this particular deck of playing cards was - and as far as my research has revealed still is - missing the three of diamonds. As everybody knows, one of the few card games which can be played without the three of diamonds is a dreadfully boring game called Five Hundred, in which players divide into bickering couples in order to score worthless points at the expense of the other players.

Unlike card games, where opponents will agree on a number of rules before beginning the game, in reality adversaries are likely to disagree on almost everything, especially the rules of behaviour. Therefore the card game 500 - or any other card game, for that matter - is likely to constitute very poor preparation for the outside world.

For example, in the contest for control of the famous Baudelaire fortune, Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire would very much have liked to agree on several rules with their adversary, the wicked Count Olaf. Chief among these rules would have been no arson, no murder, and no nefarious disguises - a phrase which here means "disguises which are unpleasant to look at and deceive guardians into believing that Count Olaf is somebody much more benign", and 'benign' is a word which here means "unlikely to attempt to steal the Baudelaire Fortune". If the Baudelaire's adversary had been following those rules Count Olaf would never have set fire to a hospital, murdered several of the Baudelaire's guardians, or disguised himself as many unpleasant individuals.

However, the longer this contest escalated - a word which here means "became much worse due to the boundless nature of Olaf's treachery" - the Baudelaires found themselves increasingly playing the game by Olaf's rules, a phrase which here means "engaging in their own treacherous acts, such as tricking a librarian and setting fire to a tent". The fact that the Baudelaires were forced to do these things after being put in terrible situations by Count Olaf did little to assuage the guilt of the three orphans. "Assuage" is a word which here means "making an unpleasant feeling less intense", and I'm sorry to say that this is the last time in this volume that I shall use the word, because like all the unpleasant feeling that the Baudelaires are unlucky enough to experience, their feelings of guilt do not become less intense as this story progresses.

The Baudelaire siblings looked grimly at one another as the taxi dropped them at the house of their newest guardian. Before they could open the door, the round face of Mr Poe the banker, the man who had been in charge of appointing guardians to look after the Baudelaire orphans turned and addressed them from the front seat.

"Now children, this is the house of your newest guardian, Mr A. S. Conflegro - "

"Conflegro!" exclaimed Klaus, "that sounds like conflagration, which is another word for fire!" and the three Baudelaires looked fearfully at each other, remembering the various fires which had played such terrible roles in their lives.

"I think it sounds rather more like 'flamingo', which is much more pleasant, and everybody knows that flamingoes are rarely seen around fires. In any case children, please remember to be on your best behaviour. It has been very difficult to find a new guardian for you children, despite the Daily Punctilio's retraction of their accusations against you for which you should be very grateful."

"But we have been on our best behaviour with all of our new guardians, and that hasn't stopped Count Olaf from turning up," said Violet.

"And the Daily Punctilio retracted the accusations because they were false," said Klaus

"Kalish", said Sunny, but before her siblings could explain to Mr Poe that she meant "the Daily Punctilio should be grateful to us that we aren't suing them for all the distress they've caused", Mr Poe coughed and interrupted.

"Yes yes, but remember children, there's no use crying over spilt milk," he said definitively, as if this entirely resolved the disagreement.

So without argument, the Baudelaires surveyed their new home, glancing at each other when they noticed the ominous facade of the house - a phrase which here means "the lack of any windows on the ground floor". The house was two stories, scarcely unusual in the wealthy part of town in which Mr Conflegro lived, but only the upper floor had windows. It looked as if Mr Conflegro lived on top of an aboveground basement.

"The lack of windows on the ground floor makes it seem that Mr Conflegro lives on top of an aboveground basement," muttered Violet.

"I concur," agreed Klaus, using a fancy word for "agree".

"Pulsno!" exclaimed Sunny, which meant something along the lines of "I hope it's not a dungeon where we might find ourselves trapped!"

Silently, the three Baudelaires recalled the terrifying tower in which Sunny had been imprisoned while Violet was almost forced to marry Count Olaf and hoped that they never again found themselves in such a precarious position - a phrase which here means 'in a cage, dangling from the top of a tall tower'.

Mr Poe coughed into his hankerchief. "Don't be silly, there are many types of rooms which never have windows, like libraries, laboratories, or kitchens. I'm sure that Mr Conflegro simply lives above some perfectly harmless rooms like those."

"But Aunt Josephine's library had a huge window," said Klaus.

"So did Uncle Monty's reptile laboratory," said Violet.

"Homspo," said Sunny sadly, meaning that the Baudelaire kitchen had several windows which were all melted in the fire that destroyed their home and killed their parents.

"I don't have time to be arguing with children about interior design," said Mr Poe with a cough, as he climbed up the stairs and knocked timidly on the door. As the three siblings hurried up the stairs to join him, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The sound of footsteps approaching can evoke a range of emotions - a phrase which here means "make one happy or sad, depending on the situation". For example, if one were to be trapped in a very well lit drawing room, the sound of footsteps approaching could be a disguised associate bringing a letter containing instructions on how to fashion a makeshift rope with which to escape through the window, or it could be a villainous butler bringing you poisoned ham soup. As the Baudelaires huddled together outside the front door of Mr Conflegro's house, they wondered what sort of person the footsteps were carrying. I'm sorry to tell you, dear reader, that even after the door opened to reveal a tall, formal looking man wearing a very clean suit, the Baudelaires would continue to wonder what kind of person the footsteps had brought them for a very long time.


	2. Under A Cloud

Mr Conflegro looked from Mr Poe to Violet, from Violet to Klaus, and from Klaus to Sunny.

"Baudelaires, this is Mr Arwen Conflegro. Mr Conflegro, this is Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. Thank you for taking them on such short notice, they have promised not to cause any mischief this time around."

"Bolshev!" Interrupted Sunny, meaning something like "it's Olaf who needs to make that promise, not us!" but her siblings did not have time to translate because their guardian spoke.

"Please, Mr Poe, my surname is San Conflegro. You're giving me a bad name, so to speak. Now, Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, it is a pleasure to meet you, now would the three of you please come in, it would be proper to show you around your new home. I hope our time together will be enjoyable and you wil find me to be a suitable guardian." He concluded his short speech with a slight bow.

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, Mr San Conflegro," Violet replied.

Mr San Conflegro laughed a slow, deep laugh which sounded like an owl with a particularly deep voice. "Please, there is no need for 'mister'. I am your guardian after all!"

"Okay, it is a pleasure to meet you Arwen," said Violet.

"No, no perhaps I wasn't clear," Arwen shook his head. "it is not proper to use only part of somebody's name when you address them. I meant you should call me "Arwen San Conflegro". After all, I would scarcely want to call you merely Violet rather than Violet Baudelaire!"

"Why not?" Violet could not stop herself from asking.

"Violet, please don't interrogate your guardian, it isn't proper." Mr Poe answered on behalf of Arwen San Conflegro, but the tall man merely laughed again.

"Of course it is proper to interrogate one's guardians! The answer, Violet, is simply that you are Violet Baudelaire. Look at the way you children stand together. Your loyalty is to each other, and to your parents. I would be doing you a disservice by leaving out your last names."

The Baudelaires once more glanced at each other, wondering what to make of their new guardian. But before Violet could protest that her loyalty to her siblings came from love and necessity rather than her name, and Klaus protest that their parents were their parents no matter whether they were called Baudelaire, Smith, Poe, or Snicket, and Sunny to protest "Yojo", which would have meant something along the lines of "bonds are forged through shared experience rather than pre-formed by the circumstances of birth", Mr Poe coughed.

"There will be plenty of time to discuss the importance of family later. In the meantime, I need to get back to the bank," he said. "Goodbye children, goodbye Arwen Conflegro."

"Oh no, I'm sorry Mr Poe but I must insist that you look inside just briefly. It wouldn't be at all proper for a banker to simply leave orphans in front of a house he hadn't seen the inside of."

"Yes, well, perhaps you're right. Very well."

In order to satisfy your curiosity, dear reader, I can tell you now that the guesses of both Mr Poe and the Baudelaire siblings regarding the bottom floor of Arwen San Conflegro's house were all entirely incorrect. It was neither laboratory nor library, neither dungeon nor basement, and it was certainly not a kitchen. Arwen San Conflegro opened a door and led the siblings down the stairs, gesturing with a flourish at the huge space. There were no walls, only colourfully painted screens, bright white lights on black stands, boxes on three legs, and huge microphones taller than anybody the Baudelaires had ever met.

"This," said Arwen San Conflegro with another grand gesture, "is my studio."

The room was like nothing the Baudelaires had ever seen.

"Is it a painter's studio?" asked Klaus, noticing the brightly decorated screens.

"Is it a designer's studio?" asked Violet, noticing the strange lights and sketches on tables.

"Bloshcko?" asked Sunny, gesturing at the colourful disguises in one corner.

"Ho Ho Ho!" boomed the laugh of Arwen San Conflegro. "No, Violet Baudelaire, it is not purely a designer's studio, though things are designed here. No, Klaus Baudelaire, it is not a painter's studio though of course there are paintings here. And no, Sunny Baudelaire, it is not a studio for practising disguises, though those costumes will indeed be worn. No, it is a Film Studio."

"A film studio?" said Violet.

"A film studio..." said Klaus.

The Baudelaires fell silent for a moment. Violet and Klaus were both recalling a time their parents had taken them to see a film while Sunny was very young, too young to remember. The film they had seen on that particular evening was called "the Bad Beginning," and it was about a family who gave birth to a very small child, only it turned out that the family of seemingly regular sized people had actually been Giants and the child had been of regular human size all along. Of course, this did not prevent the family of Giants from eating the tiny and defenceless child at the end of the picture. The entire purpose of the film had been to convey a crucial seven syllable message to certain important members of the audience and it has become the life's work of an associate of mine to decode that message while in disguise as a bitter and miserable film reviewer, a disguise he finds dishearteningly easy to wear. The most recent news I have received is that he had progressed to the fourth syllable, but is still no closer to understanding the entire message. Like my associate, Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire had not been the intended recipients of that message and so they had left the film feeling unclear about its purpose, and somewhat disturbed by the fate of the regular-sized child.

"The studio is very interesting. It is attached to a weather machine to create all kinds of conditions to film movies in, and there are all kinds of mechanisms for altering the sets and creating new ones," said Arwen San Conflegro.

"That sounds precisely like something you'd be interested in," said Klaus to his sister.

"Upstairs is a library full of the books on all kinds of subjects, which we use to research the plots and details for the films."

"And that sounds like exactly your cup of tea," said Violet to her brother.

"We also have a special studio kitchen with ingredients from all round the world to make realistic dishes for the characters to be filmed eating."

"Yoltz," said Sunny, meaning something like 'and that sounds like the ideal place for me to develop my cooking skills'.

"Yes, I think you'll find yourselves quite at home in the studio, while you may not have seen one before, it will soon become a very familiar place."

As if to remind the Baudelaire children of his presence, Mr Poe took the opportunity to cough.  
"This description of various things studios contain is all very interesting," he said although it was clear that Mr Poe believed no such thing, "but now that I've seen inside, I really must be getting back to the bank. Farewell children, and good luck with your new guardian. Thank you again Mr Conflegro for convincing the Daily Punctilio's reporters to change their tune on the Baudelaire Murder case and report that the Baudelaires were not the murderers after all."

"I merely saw an opportunity to do some good. Please Mr Poe, there is no need to applaud. I only did what Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire deserved."

"Yes you're quite right. Well, good luck Baudelaires," Mr Poe called over his shoulder walked out through the front door towards the taxi, leaving the children alone with their new guardian.

"Children," said Arwen San Conflegro with a sweep of his hand, "it is time for your tour of the studio!"


	3. Blank Slates

There are some people who believe in human nature. For example, they might look at a small child who will later grow up and do something incredibly noble, such as create a moving piano concerto or write a series of beautiful unsent love letters, and say something like "that child has a noble nature". Or they might look at a small child who will later grow up only to do something terrible, such as set fire to a kindergarten or deliver an important message to the wrong person, and say something like "that child has a wicked nature". But somebody who doesn't believe in human nature might say that either of those children were blank slates, or even blank canvases - expressions which both here mean "merely children, who will grow up to commit some combination of noble deeds, terrible deeds, neutral deeds, and morally ambiguous deeds depending the complex interplay between various genetic and environmental factors". In a way, even grown ups are blank slates to a degree, and blank canvases to an extent, and we can learn what kind of slate we are as our the stories of our lives go on being written, and see what type of canvas we are as the events in our lives continue to be sketched. But there are some people that even the most ardent innatists - a phrase which here means 'people who are most certain about human nature' - would concede are at least something of a blank slate (or canvas). These are people for whom a variety of outcomes are imaginable, ranging from noble to treacherous. They are like blank slates, as happy to have an exceptional poet write a couplet on them as they are to have a wicked villain write the details for a nasty scheme. Or they are like blank canvases, as happy to have a wonderful artist paint a haunting image on them of the periscope of a submarine against a sunset as they are to have a greedy artist paint a forgery on them of an old and valuable painting. And as their new Guardian began lead the children into his studio, the Baudelaires met the blankest slates or canvases that they had ever seen.

"That man looks like a complete blank canvas," Violet whispered to her siblings, nodding towards a man wearing a green suit which covered every inch of his body, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

"And that woman looks like a total blank slate," Klaus whispered to his sisters, gesturing at a woman wearing a red version of the same suit.

"Pinker," Sunny whispered to Violet and Klaus, meaning something like "as far as one subscribes to a compatibilist view of the universe, that person who looks like both a man and a woman is certainly a blank slate or canvas."

The Baudelaires watched the three people who were standing around the studio not looking at anything in particular. If the sudden appearance of three orphans was in any way an unusual thing to happen at the movie studio, they were taking it rather well. The Baudelaires felt themselves struggling to maintain an interest in the three colourfully dressed people for more than a few moments, their eyes and brain kept drifting away to look at more interesting things. Arwen San Conflegro watched them with a slight smile.

"Ah, I see you've noticed my employees. They are three of the finest character actors in this city, people would pay a fortune to have them act in their films."

"What makes them such good actors?" asked Violet.

"Look at them!" exclaimed Arwen San Conflegro, and the three siblings tried once more to fix their eyes on the three empty-looking actors. "Tell me what you notice about them, what distinguishes them," their guardian continued, but the Baudelaires could not think of anything.

"I'm not sure I can think of anything", said Klaus.

"Me neither," said Violet.

"Raffle," said Sunny, meaning "I'm drawing a blank too".

"Exactly, that's exactly right. They are, how does the expression go? Blank boxes? I mean that they can be made to perform in any role you can imagine."

"I think you mean a blank canvas," said Violet.

"Or a blank slate," added Klaus.

"Yes, that's exactly what I meant. And now that you've met my employees, the tour can continue!"

Now the Baudelaire children were very polite children, and they all felt (and I have to say that I agree with them) that they certainly had not met Arwen San Conflegro's three employees in any meaningful way.

"Hearing about somebody's acting potential hardly counts as meeting them," Violet whispered.

"And having somebody described as a blank slate or canvas barely constitutes an introduction," Klaus agreed.

"Numpy," said Sunny, and Violet and Klaus saw that she was right and Arwen San Conflegro was continuing his tour with no intention of providing any more introductions regardless of how the Baudelaires felt about it. The children hurried to catch up as their guardian walked towards one side of the studio. The studio was huge, and as the Baudelaires drew closer to where their guardian was leading them, their amazement grew. Their amazement grew because what had seemed like a few glass containers next to a drab grey slab turned into a huge, empty aquarium complex next to an enormous imitation roof. The imitation roof featured ladders emerging out of the floor, chimneys, nets, and harpoon guns lying around and was covered in feathers, and the floor of the empty aquarium was covered with fish scales and scientific equipment.

"This," Arwen San Conflegro said proudly, "was the set for my film 'Salmon Swim Once'. It was a film about a researcher who discovers that salmon exhaust themselves swimming up stream only to die once they reach the top. The researcher is horrified that so many salmon die for no reason, and so attempts to breed a new form of sensible salmon which can be trained to safely swim back down the river again instead of dying. However, the twist is that her efforts are interrupted by a flock of enraged eagles who prefer their salmon foolishly perishing at the top of the stream. The rooftop over there represents the roof of the research centre where the researcher attempts to fend off the eagles."

"Does she succeed?" asked Violet.

"Ah, to know the answer to that, you must watch the film! I wouldn't want to spoil the mystery!"

Violet nodded, but secretly felt that the Baudelaires had more than enough mysteries in their lives, and would be more than happy for somebody to spoil as many of them as they could. Arwen San Conflegro, however, chose to do no such thing, instead leading the Baudelaires to another part of the studio. The Baudelaires were astonished as what had appeared from a distance to be a pile of scrap metal and an overgrown archway turned into the inside of a submarine and the scene of an elaborate wedding. The submarine was a maze of metal corridors, passageways, hatches and control systems, and the wedding scene included a lavishly decorated cake and enough room for several guests.

"This was the set for my film The Wet Wedding. It is about a woman who is late for her cousin's wedding - or perhaps it was her second cousin, I can't remember. In any case, she is so late that she is forced to steal a submarine in order to make it on time. However, the twist is that the submarine actually belonged to the wedding celebrant, and so the wedding is in danger of being cancelled."

"So does the wedding go ahead?" asked Klaus.

"Ah, now I couldn't possibly tell you that before you see the film!" Arwen San Conflegro replied.

But before Klaus could point out that he was unlikely to watch such a ridiculous film and had only been asking to be polite, Arwen begin walking towards a third section of the studio. The Baudelaires were astounded as what had appeared to be a few colourful shelves next to a doll's house turned into an enormous library next to an extremely comfortable looking mansion.

"Zest?" asked Sunny, which meant something along the lines of "and what was this movie, presumably featuring some ridiculous twist, about?"

"Sunny is asking," said Violet, "what was this movie about?"

"Ah. This movie was the only unsuccessful film I've ever created. It was about a family who lives in a huge mansion which contains a vast library, and they read together and pass the time in comfort and happiness. I think the film did so poorly because it had no twist. The film industry is not ready for films which are a realistic portrayal of the world." Arwen San Conflegro looked at his feet, and then looked back up at the Baudelaires with a sad look in his eyes. "If one is a painter, one can paint a picture which captures the essence of an ordinary life lead by an ordinary woman in a way which is beautiful. And if one is a poet, one can write a poem which embodies the spirit of an regular life lead by a regular man in a way which moves the soul. But cinema audiences only want movies with exciting twists. They don't to see real life."

"But we know many people whose lives are real, - " Violet began.

"And full of surprising twists," Klaus finished for her.

"Danmarto," said Sunny, but her siblings chose not to explain that she meant 'you just chose an incredibly boring family to turn into a realistic movie'.

Arwen San Conflegro looked at the Baudelaires once more, with a changed expression - a phrase which here means 'in a way which reminded Violet of a spider looking at an insect flying too close to its web, and reminded Klaus of an eagle looking at a salmon swimming too close to the surface, and made Sunny feel very uncomfortable indeed'.

"Yes, perhaps you're right, Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. I'll have to give that some thought. But first, allow me to explain the finest piece of equipment in the entire studio - the Weather Machine."

It is a well known fact that most people, aside from Interior Designers, tourists visiting cathedrals and people who regularly need to stretch their necks, seldom look up. Hence, I have discovered over a life spent hiding from a wide variety of people that the ceiling is often the safest place to remain undetected, until one day when I found myself attempting to hide from a group of Interior Designers visiting a cathedral while recuperating from a mild neck injury. And so while Violet had spent time looking at the three blank slates employed as actors by Arwen San Conflegro, and Klaus had spent time looking at various movie sets, and Sunny had spent time looking at their new guardian, it had not occured to any of the Baudelaires to look up.

"Look up!" said Arwen San Conflegro, and up the Baudelaires looked, and felt very strange as they saw the weather machine at work. The high ceiling of the Studio was hidden by a thick layer of cloud, so realistic that the Baudelaires felt like they were outside, and not in a studio at all.

"Right now, the weather machine is set to 'stratus nimbulosis, no rain, daytime, comfortable temperature.' I will show you the machinery upstairs, you can switch between day and night, any cloud type you can imagine, and simulate glaring sun, rain and snow. It's an amazing, though surprisingly tiny, piece of machinery upstairs."

The three Baudelaires look up at the clouds in awe, and Violet took a hair ribbon out of her pocket. Her siblings knew that this meant the gears of her inventing brain were whirring - a phrase which here means 'Violet was attempting to figure out how such a weather machine might work'.

"Now, you've seen the studio - let me show you the house," said Arwen San Conflegro, gesturing towards the staircase in the centre of the studio wall furthest from the front door. He led the Baudelaires up the stairs in the centre of the studio. The walls were covered with photographs of films in production, there were photos of the films Arwen had described, submarines and laboratories and huge but cinematically uninteresting libraries. There were also photos of other films, the plots of which the Baudelaires had no familiarity whatsoever. There were people arguing on board a ship, people sword fighting on a construction site, people playing cards in the basket of a hot air balloon, and people writing irritated letters-to-the-editor on horseback. There were photographs of camera operators operating their cameras, film directors directing films, scriptwriters writing scripts, and actors wearing all kinds of subtle disguises appropriate for the delicate medium of film, as opposed to the overdone disguises suitable for the theatre.

After climbing the long stairway, the Baudelaires found themselves on a landing with three corridors branching off from it, but it was a very strange landing indeed. It has been mentioned that very few people are prone to looking up, but of course the same isn't true about looking down. One doesn't have to travel far in this world to see all sorts of people look down for a variety of reasons. A banker might look down to ensure her footwear is polished and free of marks, a waiter might look down to avoid making eye contact with a diner who might see through his disguise, and a tightrope walker might look down to remind themselves that it's important to pay attention. Upon reaching the stairway, the three Baudelaire orphans looked down for reasons which my research has been unable to uncover, though I might venture a guess - a phrase which simply means 'guess' - that the children looked down as a reaction to a feeling of uncertainty. I might venture further guesses that Violet felt uncertain about the way her guardian had looked at her and her siblings earlier, that Klaus felt uncertain about whether the Baudelaires would be safe with their new guardian, and that Sunny felt uncertain about whether Count Olaf would once again appear to prevent the three children from living peaceful lives. One thing that I do not have to venture a guess about, however, and can say with absolute certainty after spending as little as five minutes investigating the charred ruins of the Arwen San Conflegro's film studio. When Violet looked down, she saw Violet; when Klaus looked down, he saw Klaus; and when Sunny looked down, she saw Sunny.

"The floor is a huge mirror!" said Violet.

"And so are the walls!" said Klaus as he raised his eyes to look at Arwen San Conflegro and saw that the walls of the landing were as shiny and reflective as the floor.

"Carrolt!" said Sunny as she noticed that even the doors were simply huge mirror with handles attached to them.

"Isn't it wonderful?" said their guardian, but hye didn't wait for the Baudelaires to answer his question. "My goal in my films is that the audience should watch the film but see themselves reflected back at them, and I've captured that in the interior design of my house."

"Kaleidosh," said Sunny, and Klaus explained that she meant something along the lines of 'this interior design is very disorientating'.

"Yes, I understand where you're coming from. I'm afraid that the upper storey of this house is not at all designed in keeping with the open plan of the studio," Arwen San Conflegro told the children, even though this was not at all what Sunny had been referring to. "In fact," he went on, "there are a lot of corridors and non-structural walls. The corridor to your left leads to my bedroom, bathroom, and the Editing room, where I edit all of the footage into films. The central corridor leads to the kitchen, dining room, mechanical workshop, and library. The right hand corridor leads to your bedrooms."

Arwen San Conflegro glanced at his watch. "Now it's getting quite late, the sun will have already set and I never like to be awake during the night, as I'm sure you'll agree, but because it is important that I show you around the house I suppose I can make an exception this time. You can explore your bedroom on your own, but I'll show you where the kitchen is so that you can make yourselves breakfast in the morning."

As the siblings followed their guardian down the central corridor, which you shouldn't be surprised to hear was lined entirely with mirrors, the children struggled to get their bearings - a phrase which here means 'were disoriented by the infinite copies of themselves and each other which extended in every direction they cared to look'. The only break from the endless mirrors was the outline of various doors, and moderately sized black ovals hanging from the ceiling.

"Look up, Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, at my new, state-of-the-art sprinkler system! If there is a fire anywhere in the building, my Vaporous Flame Dampeners will spray water wherever the fire is. I absolutely despise fires, that's why I have an electric stove. I hope cooking on an electric stove won't bother you Sunny?"

"Improlvio," Sunny answered, and Violet explained that Sunny was comparing Arwen San Conflegro favourably with Aunt Josephine - a phrase which here means "praising Arwen's practical decision to replace a stove he was afraid of, rather than inconveniently preventing the Baudelaires from using any kind of stove at all".

"That's good to hear," said Arwen San Conflegro with a serious look on his face. "So there's no need to worry about a fire here, Baudelaires, not while you're standing under my Vaporous Flame Dampeners."

"That's very good to hear," said Violet.

"We've had a lot of problems with fires recently," said Klaus.

Arwen San Conflegro, rather than responding as you or I might with a sympathetic comments about the unpleasant consequences of fires in the lives of the Baudelaires, turned to the siblings with a gleam in his eye and made an announcement.

"I have an announcement! I was going to wait to tell you tomorrow, but I find myself too excited to hold it in. Baudelaires, you gave me a fabulous idea for my next film. I am about to start working on it immediately and you are going to be my star actors and actresses. The film is going to be the definitive history of the Volunteer Fire Department," he said with a grand flourish of his hands.

Perhaps even more so than a young child, a prospective film can be said to be a blank slate or canvas. The film could be about treacherous villainy prevailing over all that is good and noble, or it could be about nefarious criminals being dealt with appropriately by the authorities so that decent people can live peaceful, quiet lives. And a film about the VFD, whose mysteries grew and swirled around each other, and whose inner workings seemed as endlessly clouded as the ceiling of the studio itself, was perhaps the blankest slate or canvas that the Baudelaires could imagine.


	4. Eavesdropping

"A film about VFD," said Violet, as she shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

"That's right. And who best to play members of VFD in a film, than members of VFD in real life!" said Arwen.

"But are we really members of VFD?" Violet asked.

"And don't actors usually play members of organisations in films, rather than the members themselves?" asked Klaus.

"Oddys?" said Sunny, which meant something like 'and wouldn't making a film about VFD be an extremely difficult and dangerous project, full of traps and pitfalls?'

"Those are excellent questions, Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. At least, I assume that your question was excellent" - he looked down at Sunny - "although I have to say I didn't quite understand it. And we should discuss them very soon. But first, I almost forgot to show you the Weather Machine!"

Arwen San Conflegro turned and started walking down another corridor, while the Baudelaires hurried to keep up. Eventually he stopped in front of a door, and opened it and ushered the three children into the room. There was no furniture, and thankfully no mirrors on the walls. In fact, there wasn't much of anything anywhere.

"Where's the machine?" said Violet.

"There it is," said her guardian, pointing to a small black box in the corner of the room.

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. She had been expecting something huge, with lots of gears and pipes and heat exchangers, to create something as grand as the clouds they had seen downstairs.

"Yes, that is the amazing Weather Machine. Go on, take a closer took."

The siblings walked towards the machine, and as they came close they saw that it had four dials on it. One dial set the temperature, one the rain, one the cloud type, and one the weather height. Aside from those four dials, the box was black and shiny. Violet didn't even bother tying her hair out of her eyes, because the machine simply did not have any parts for her to think about. There were just the dials, and in themselves they weren't particularly interesting.

"So this is it," she said.

"That's right. That little machine creates all that weather. Pretty amazing, don't you think?"

"Yes, it is."

"I'm sorry there isn't much to investigate. But don't worry, the workshop has much more to look at and take apart."

Violet stepped towards the machine and bent her head down to listen to it. She looked up at Arwen San Conflegro with a confused expression, but before she could say anything, he yawned loudly and started speaking.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry to say this, but I'm really quite exhausted and you must be too. I will show you to your rooms now, the library and the workshop will have to wait until tomorrow."

Arwen turned and ushered Klaus and Sunny out of the room, and Violet followed behind them. They walked through the strange and mirrored halls once more, eventually coming to another door. Arwen stopped and told the Baudelaires that this was their room, and that he was going to leave them and go to bed. They said goodnight to their guardian, and walked into the room.

It is not unusual for a person to have a mirror on their bedroom wall, especially if they are a make up artist or a mirror salesperson. But it is also not unusual for a person to have some of their wall space free of mirrors, perhaps painted white or covered in unpleasant floral wallpaper. In this sense, the room in which the Baudelaires spend their first night in their new home was fairly unusual. The Baudelaires had been expecting their bedroom to contain at least a few mirrors, but what they saw was even stranger than the corridors. The floor made of one single mirror, as was the ceiling. The mirrors on the ceiling made a giant upside-down 'V' shape, with two huge mirrors angling up to meet in the centre of the roof. The walls featured a small horizontal strip of unpleasant floral wallpaper, below which was another mirror at a 60 degree angle to the floor. The effect was that looking in almost any direction reflected one's face from the other side.

"I don't even know what to say," said Klaus, as children walked into the room. "I am lost for words."

Violet pulled a ribbon out of her pocket and tied her hair up to think. Unfortunately, moving her hair away from the side of her face immediately made her able to see seven more copies of herself in the mirror out of her peripheral vision. She quickly untied it and sighed. "Me too," she said and sat down on one of the beds. "Let's talk about it in the morning. I suppose that small bed is for you, Sunny, and I'm sure we could all use some sleep."

"I think you're right," said Klaus, yawning.

"Ickta," Sunny agreed.

***

The three children woke early as the morning sun bounced off all of the mirrors and into all of their eyes. Violet looked up at the angled ceiling, and saw her face reflected off the angled wall mirrors, Klaus looked to the side and saw the back of his head reflected off the roof, and Sunny woke up and immediately turned her head towards her pillow.

"Let's go and have breakfast as soon as possible, so we can leave this room," said Violet.

"Ghoble?" said Sunny.

"Scrambled eggs would be lovely," said Klaus. "Thanks Sunny."

Violet stood up and walked in the direction of the bedroom door, and so did Klaus and Sunny. Klaus walked to his right, but Violet walked to Klaus' left, and they both walked in the opposite direction to where Sunny started to crawl. Usually when someone writes that a person "found their way out of their bedroom," it is just a roundabout way of saying that they left the bedroom. However when your bedroom is surrounded by mirrors, it can be harder than you think to find your way out. For this reason, halls of mirrors are more often found at carnivals than in bedrooms.

Violet, Klaus and Sunny found their way out of their bedroom and walked down to the kitchen.

"Taiho," said Sunny with excitement when she opened the well-stocked cupboards and set to work preparing the morning meal.

"I'm glad you like the kitchen," said Violet. "While you cook, we should all discuss this film that Arwen mentioned last night. A film about VFD. Would we want to be in such a thing? Is it a good idea? and - Sunny, that smells delicious!"

"I don't think the delicious food Sunny is preparing is something we need to discuss," said Klaus with a frown.

"No, I was just mentioning it," said Violet. "I was going to say ... well, I don't remember what I was going to say. But the first two questions are very important."

Klaus opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, the three Baudelaires looked up to see a man walked in who they would have sworn they'd never seen before, except for the fact that his green suit made it clear that he was one of Arwen San Conflegro's employees.

"Good morning, Baudelaires," he said in a quiet, unremarkable voice.

"Good morning, umm ... " replied Violet to the stranger to whom she had been introduced only the previous evening.

"Oh of course, my name, is Rick. It is nice, to meet you," he said in a slightly stilted voice.

"It is nice to meet you too, Rick" said Klaus, making a conscious effort to stop himself unintentionally imitating the awkward manner of speaking of the employee - a phrase which here means, 'stop himself from inserting pauses at inappropriate places in his sentences'.

"Counter, part?" asked Sunny, meaning something along the lines of 'and what are the names, of the other actors?'

"Oh of course their names are, Ilsa and Victor or Victoria," Rick replied.

"Victoror Victoria? That's a very unusual name," said Violet thoughtfully, and grew slightly sad as she remembered the similarly repetitious name of their deceased guardian Dr Montgomery Montgomery.

"No, no their name is either Victor or Victoria. You may call them, Victor if you'd like or if you'd, prefer you may call them Victoria."

There was a pause as the three Baudelaires wondered. Violet wondered how a professional actor could speak in such an awkward manner, Klaus wondered whether he would call Victor or Victoria Victor or Victoria and how one person came to have two names, and Sunny wondered why the actors wore their strange, single coloured suits.

Sometimes, one wants to ask another person a question but feels that it is too personal, or because the reaction of the other person might be difficult to predict. In this case, there are several options. A very rude or very brave person might run the gauntlet - a phrase which here means 'ask the question anyway, even if it might cause the other person to become hurt or react in a fearsome manner'. Another option is to ask a proxy question, which is a more polite question intended to help shed light on the question you really wanted to ask.

"How long have you been working with Arwen San Conflegro?" asked Violet, which was a proxy question for "how could somebody with such a strange speaking manner work as an actor for any length of time". At this point, Rick might reply that he was new to acting, or that he was a friend of Arwen San Conflegro, or another answer to Violet's proxy question which would also serve as an answer to her very real and very rude question.

"Which name does Victor or Victoria prefer?" asked Klaus, as a proxy question for "which one of Victor or Victoria's two names is their real name." At this point, Rick might reply with "they prefer Victor", or maybe even "they prefer Victoria", which would answer Klaus' question.

"Dilts," said Sunny, which was a proxy question for "why do you wear such strange clothing," but which probably meant something more like "Is your suit related to a part you are playing in a film currently?" Once her siblings translated the question, which they quickly did, Rick might explain that Arwen San Conflegro was currently creating a film about people who wear strange clothes, and that would answer Sunny's question.

Unfortunately, none of the Baudelaire children received answers to any of their true questions.

Rick looked from one Baudelaire to the other, and then to the plate in front of him. "Oh, I've been working with Arwen, San Conflegro for some years now. In fact there, is a picture in the corridor of me in one, of my favourite roles as a man waiting for a train."

"So you've always been an actor then," said Violet, in one last attempt to find out how an actor could speak so awkwardly.

"No no as a child I wanted, to be a mercenary and fight in foreign wars but my, eyesight is too poor."

"Oh," said Klaus quietly.

"So I ended up here as, an actor, instead. In fact the other two employees here followed, a similar pattern. Ilsa had intended to become an executioner but her hands, were too shaky."

"And what about Victor?" asked Klaus.

"Or Victoria," said Violet.

"Ipsofa!" cried Sunny, which wasn't a question at all, but was her way of telling everybody that their breakfast was ready.

Rick waved a hand in annoyance (at the question, and not the breakfast). "Oh I don't recall I think, they trained as a kindergarten teacher but left because the, job was so horrible. As for your question," - he turned to Klaus - "I find it to be, rather a silly, one. You might as well ask whether they prefer butter or cream. It's unanswerable."

Klaus and Violet looked at each other, and then down at the big bowl of scrambled eggs that Sunny had carried over to the table by herself.

"Nosophy!" said Sunny, which meant something along the lines of "that's not an unanswerable question at all!"

"Your question," he said turning to Sunny, "is however quite easy to answer and, the answer is no. The reason behind this, as you might like to know" - Sunny nodded, and he continued - "is that Arwen is not making any films at this, moment."

As he spoke, Klaus and Violet had stood up and gotten themselves some small bowls and spoons and started to eat breakfast. They offered some to Rick, who shook his head.

There was a pause as each Baudelaire considered whether they wanted to have one more attempt at asking proxy questions, or abandon their investigations into their new guardian's strange employee. Before they could decide, the kitchen door burst open and Arwen strode in and sat down.

"Did you sleep well, Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire?" he asked as he picked up the fork that had been intended for Rick.

Of course, the Baudelaires had not slept well, as you will know if you've ever had the misfortune of sleeping in a room consisting entirely of mirrors tilted at strange angles. I myself have never had that experience, Arwen San Conflegro's mirrored rooms having been completely destroyed in the fire that destroyed the rest of the Studio long before I could investigate them.

"Yes, we did thank you," said Violet, not wishing to upset her guardian. "The mirrors sure are ... interesting."

"Yes, I'm glad you liked them. Very glad indeed. And what an excellent breakfast. May I?" he said, gesturing with a sweaty hand towards the bowl.

"Of course," said Violet.

"Have you given any more thought to your new film project?" he said as he scooped some scrambled eggs onto his plate. "I've been thinking about some changes, which I'll run by you. Hold on, my telephone is about to ring." Arwen stopped talking and sat silently, taking a mouthful of eggs. The Baudelaires liked scrambled eggs, but there was something about the way that Arwen put them into his mouth which made them uneasy. It wasn't so much that he put them in his mouth, it was more that he shovelled them in. But shovelling usually refers to somebody putting in large amounts of food quickly. Arwen ate only regular sized spoonfuls, but he still somehow made it look as if he were using something heavy and awkward like a shovel. Perhaps it was the way he gripped the spoon in his fist rather than his fingers, or perhaps it was the way he chewed so vigorously. In any case, the Baudelaires found it very unsettling to watch him eat. They didn't have to watch him long, because soon enough the telephone rang loudly, giving the three siblings a fright.

"There we go," Arwen said, standing. "Excuse me for a minute, Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, I should take this call.

Long ago, the Baudelaire parents had told their children that eavesdropping was wrong. The conversation had happened on a Spring afternoon, when Klaus was about eight. He had brought home from school a novel about a spy, which some of his classmates had been reading. He had found it incredibly dull, as the spy went from one improbable escape to another, and spent a lot of time shooting guns at people. His father was reading aloud some of the passages Klaus had found particularly irksome, a phrase which here means 'caused him to think his classmates were silly for enjoying such a poor quality book'. One of them involved the Spy holding a stethoscope against a telephone pole in order to eavesdrop on a phone conversation. As you surely know, using a medical device on a telephone pole is entirely improper and unless you are, for instance, a telephone, you will find it very difficult to convert the electrical signals passing through the wires into human speech.

"Jimmy reached into his pocket and pulled out his stethoscope," Klaus' father read. "'Lucky I brought this,' said Jimmy. Jimmy held the stethoscope up to the phone pole and he could hear as clear as a clear day the conversation. 'Oh no,' said the voice on the telephone. 'We can't let Jimmy know that we're planning to poison the entire water supply of the city!'"

"Dad stop! It's too terrible," said Klaus.

"Oh, but I like it! I want to know what happens next!"

"Well, you don't need to, because the spy shoots all the bad guys and saves the town thanks to his eavesdropping."

"That eavesdropping invention would never have worked in real life," said Violet.

"And even if it did, you know that it's very rude to eavesdrop on the conversations of others," said her mother.

"Except if somebody is trying to poison everybody," said her father.

"But if you don't eavesdrop, how will you know if they're going to poison everybody or not?" said Violet.

Her father laughed. "That's just a situation where you'll have to exercise your own judgement."

"That means you have to decide for yourself," said Klaus.

"Not that you'll ever have to make decisions like that for quite some time," said his mother.

It is quite probable that somewhere during your childhood, your parents also warned you against the moral pitfalls of eavesdropping. Of course there are many reasons why they wouldn't. Your parents may be missing, in which case you have my deepest sympathy and understanding, or they may be spies themselves, given to eavesdropping at any opportunity.

But Violet, Klaus and Sunny's parents certainly weren't missing, because they were dead, though they were missing from the children's lives, and they probably weren't spies, at least not in the sense of Klaus' classmates' book. And so when their guardian began to talk on the phone in just the next room so loudly that they could hear every word from where they sat, they looked at each other and wondered whether it was wrong to eavesdrop on Arwen San Conflegro.

"We can hear every word he's saying!" said Violet. "I feel very uncomfortable eavesdropping like this."

"But what can we do?" said Klaus. "Should we leave the kitchen? And go back into our mirrored rooms?"

Violet shuddered. "There's no place I want to go less."

"Perhaps he's planning to poison everybody," said Violet.

Klaus laughed. "If I only had my stethoscope!"

"Kasky?" said Sunny, not understanding.

"Sorry Sunny, we are laughing about something that happened years ago, before you were born" said Klaus, but before he could tell Sunny about the terrible book about a spy, they couldn't help but overhear a word from Arwen San Conflegro that made the scene Klaus had been thinking about leave his mind at once.

The word that they overheard is a word which can mean "sticky situation" - such as finding onself trapped in a cage at the bottom of an elevator shaft. But it is also a name, if an unusual one, and it is the name that the Baudelaires heard their Guardian say on the telephone.

"The Quagmires have been found? Wonderful news. Yes, I'd be delighted to take them into my care."


	5. It's a Trap!

Arwen walked back into the kitchen. "I hope you weren't eavesdropping Baudelaires, because if you were, it would ruin the surprise I'm about to give you."

Violet, Klaus and Sunny didn't know how to act. Should they pretend to be surprised? The truth was that they could barely contain their excitement at all, but before they were forced to feign ignorance, a phrase which here means pretend that they hadn't heard all of Arwen's half of the conversation, the doorbell rang.

The sound of the doorbell rang out across the kitchen, and the Baudelaires watched Arwen San Conflegro as he stood up from the breakfast table.

"Ah, the surprise will have to wait. This will be Mr. Morterio, who is a film producer very interested in producing some of my films." As Arwen San Conflegro's footsteps echoed down the long wooden corridor, the siblings looked at each other warily, a word which here means "wondered whether this mysterious visitor would prove to be Count Olaf in disguise".

"I wouldn't be surprised", said Violet, and her two siblings nodded gravely.

They listened to Arwen San Conflegro greeting the visitor, who returned his greeting in a wheezy voice all-too-familiar to the Baudelaire orphans. Sure enough, Arwen San Conflegro walked down the corridor trailed by a man wearing a cowboy hat pulled forward to cover his single eyebrow and high riding boots to hide the tattoo of an eye on his ankle. The two adults joined the Baudelaires at the table, with Count Olaf giving the siblings one of his wicked looks.

"I'm sorry but Mister Morterio has decided to resume his career as an actor," said Count Olaf, "and he is busy preparing for his next role as a murder victim. However I am the excellent and well known film producer, Col Faunot, and I'm very interested to talk about your films, Mr Conflegro. And who are these fine young children you have in your care?"

"As you all know, I am an actor, and so I am accustomed to costumes," began Arwen San Conflegro as he resumed eating the scrambled eggs Sunny had prepared. "But you see, I am not a theatre actor, used to gharish makeup and overdone costumes. In films, realism is key and nothing is overdone. And so I can see immediately, Col Faunot, that you are in fact Count Olaf. As it happens, even your name simply consists of the letters in 'Count Olaf' switched around. Olaf, please remove your absurd hat at once, though I must ask you to keep your absurd shoes on because I don't want your unwashed feet overpowering the delightful smell of this excellent breakfast."

The Baudelaires looked at one another, and Klaus and Violet almost exclaimed in delight.

"Intuigo", whispered Sunny, which her siblings knew to mean something along the lines of "remember the last time a guardian believed us about Count Olaf," and the two elder siblings grew more circumspect, a phrase which here means "remembered the time their guardian pushed them down an elevator shaft and into a net".

Count Olaf's evil eyes glinted as he considered whether to attack Arwen San Conflegro or run away. Instead, he took off his cowboy hat to reveal his single sinister eyebrow. "And who are you, Arwen Conflegro," he said. "You don't look like a Volunteer."

"I'll tell you who I am as soon as you explain your latest villainous plot to capture the Baudelaire fortune."

Count Olaf turned to the Baudelaires with another sneer. "While we're all explaining things, perhaps you could explain to your guardian what the following people have in common: Aunt Josephine, Jacques Snicket, the Chief of Police of the Village of Fowl Devotees, the - "

"That will be quite enough!" thundered Arwen San Conflegro, before continuing in a calm, very forced tone of voice which disguised his anger as poorly as Count Olaf's disguise had disguised Count Olaf. "It is not proper, Count Olaf, to be invited into my home, in disguise, in order to threaten children under my guardianship, and then indirectly threaten to murder me. You've done at least three entirely improper things and I haven't even finished my otherwise delightful breakfast."

Count Olaf looked down at the table, and the Baudelaires thought that he looked embarrassed. "Can I at least have some breakfast?" he said.

"You may," replied Arwen San Conflegro.

"It's the least you could do for me after embarrassing me like that," Olaf muttered, helping himself to a large serve of scrambled eggs.

"And you should know, my proper name is Arwen San Conflegro. Not, as you said, Arwen Conflegro. The distinction is very important to me."

Violet put her fork down on the table. "Arwen - "

" - San Conflegro - " Klaus added.

"Yes, Arwen San Conflegro," Violet continued, "I feel very uncomfortable with Count Olaf being present at the breakfast table. I would much rather report this villain to the police than feed him scrambled eggs." Violet thought of the last time she and her siblings had fed Count Olaf, when they had made a puttenesca sauce, and he had been extremely ungrateful.

"The Orphans cooked these eggs? Eugh," said Count Olaf, pushing the plate away from himself. "You should have told me! I can't believe I ate it. It's disgusting, take it away."

"See, there's no need to feed him after all," said Arwen. "Now Count Olaf, the other thing you ruined was me telling the Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire a surprise."

"Oh, there's no need to tell us the surprise now," said Violet, desperate to prevent Arwen from telling Olaf that the Quagmires had been found.

"Yes we've really had quite enough surprises for one day," said Klaus. "Perhaps later, when Count Olaf has been reported to the Authorities, you can tell us."

"Now now, let's nobody get carried away. There's no need to involve the Authorities, nobody is engaging in any criminal behaviour right at this moment," said Arwen.

"But Count Olaf has probably just murdered Mister Morterio!" said Violet.

"That does seem a little vulgar," said Arwen, using a phrase perhaps more suited to an ugly pair of pants or talking in the theatre than the murder of a film producer. "But there's no use crying over spilt milk. Count Olaf, I must agree with Violet however, that your presence here does ruin the breakfast somewhat. Why don't I show you to your quarters?"

"No!" cried Violet.

"His quarters? He can't stay here!" said Klaus.

"Stauff!" said Sunny.

"Why would I want to stay here with you anyway?" said Count Olaf.

"Oh you will stay here," said Arwen, as he grabbed Olaf by the arm and walked him down the corridor. Violet and Klaus looked at each other, before standing up and following the two adults out into the hallway. They quickly caught up to them, but not before Arwen San Conflegro could whisper something in Count Olaf's ear.

"You'll stay," he whispered, "because if you leave, the Baudelaire Fortune will never be yours, my employees and I will keep you out. But if you stay, well, I'll be watching you, but I might slip and you might get your chance. So you'll stay. It might only be a small chance, because I'm very thorough, but it's the only one you have right now." He looked over his shoulder to see the Baudelaires close enough to be able to eavesdrop on anything further, if they so chose.

"Olaf, this is your room. Why don't you go inside and make yourself at home."

"I'd love to," said Olaf, looking nastily at the Baudelaire Orphans. "I'm very comfortable here indeed," and he walked into the room.

"Now children, listen to me," Arwen said as he shut the door, which looked like a heavy prison door but swung closed lightly and easily. "I'm going to keep Olaf in this room, which as you can see, can be bolted shut from the outside." He slid the bolt closed with a clang.

"Oh wonderful," said Klaus, "you're going to keep him trapped there so he can't escape while the authorities come to arrest him. That's very clever of you - far more clever than Mr Poe."

"Oh no, don't be silly," said Arwen. "If we call the Police, he'll no doubt just talk his way out of it and be set free. No, I have a much better idea. You see, it's perfect. As soon as Count Olaf walked in, I knew everything would work out. A we need to do is convince Olaf to act in our film, which he will do, and then in a scene where he tries to murder one of you, we'll call the police and have him arrested for attempted murder."

"But pretending to murder somebody in a film scene isn't a crime," said Violet.

"Oh that's the beauty of it. See, we'll have a stabbing scene. Yes, I can picture it now. And Olaf will have one of those retractable theatre knives. Then, Violet will cry out 'no, police, this isn't according to the script,' and then the police officers will storm the stage, and in the confusion, you'll switch the theatre knife for a real knife, and Olaf will be caught attempting to murder you, using the show as a cover. But really, you'll be using the show as a cover to frame Olaf for the murder."

"No," said Violet. "No, no no. First of all, why does it have to be me being stabbed?" She thought back to when Sunny was trapped in a cage and she was nearly forced to marry Count Olaf in his terrible play. "I won't do it. I'm not a doll to be used in this way. Being stabbed by Count Olaf is the last thing I want to even pretend to do. In fact, I'm sure that the last thing anybody should be doing is encouraging such a wicked person to commit yet more crimes."

"You certainly are correct, Violet Baudelaire," said Arwen San Conflegro.  
"And so," he continued, "allow me to modify my suggestion. Mr Poe has told me of some of your unpleasant experiences with Count Olaf. Perhaps it would be more fitting if it were Klaus who were stabbed."

The Beaudelaires said nothing, as Violet looked at Klaus, Klaus looked at Sunny, and Sunny looked at Violet.

"No doubt you children will want to discuss this amongst yourselves, so I will leave you to think about it. I will be in the kitchen finishing my breakfast; please let me know if you come to a decision." and with that, Arwen San Conflegro began to walk back down the corridor, but not before adjusting the large black sprinkler so it hung directly over the heads of the Baudelaire children.

"What do you think?" Violet asked her siblings.

"I don't know," Klaus replied, "I feel nervous about schemes."

"Jobsch", said Sunny.

"You're right Sunny, that might be because we've usually been on the receiving end," Klaus said.

"Not always," said Violet quietly, thinking back to the hall of records at the Heimlich Hospital. "And anyway, it's different because we're not trying to save our lives. We're be the ones initiating the scheme this time."

"But we are in danger from Count Olaf," Klaus said, glancing at the bolted door, "and we won't be safe until he is in jail!"

"Do you think I don't know that Klaus?" said Violet. "But that doesn't mean we should start trapping people into being arrested for crimes they might not have been going to commit!"

"But Count Olaf did commit that crime. Or almost the same one. He tried to use a play as a ploy to steal our fortune, with Justice Strauss. It's a crime he's already committed."

"I just don't know Klaus. I don't know. Count Olaf isn't scheming against us right now, he's locked in that room. We'd be creating a scheme totally on our own, instead of responding to one of Olaf's. Besides, I can think of another problem - how can we trust Arwen San Conflegro? It's true that he seems to have our best interests at heart, but we should be careful," said Violet.

"That's a good point," said Klaus, nodding his head. "It's true that his name sounds like 'no fire', but that's probably not a good reason to trust a guardian. And we haven't always had good luck with our guardians."

"Esme," said Sunny, referring to the fashionable woman who had forced such horrors onto the children as nets, ill-fitting clothing, and dark passageways - all while helping Count Olaf enact a treacherous scheme to steal the Beaudelaire fortune.

"But we knew from the beginning that Esme was very rude and obsessed with fashion. In a way, it wasn't a surprise that she turned out to be in cahoots with Count Olaf," said Violet with a sad look on her face.

"For all we know, Arwen San Conflegro is Count Olaf's boyfriend, and he invited him here himself," said Klaus, taking off his glasses and wiping them with a hankerchief.

"Hankscorp," said Sunny, which meant something like 'he seems friendly, but may turn out to have sinister intentions.'

The reader may be aware of the saying 'A wolf in sheep's clothing'. The expression is, of course, true of all wolves because sheep (like wolves) wear no clothing at all and so sheep and wolves are always wearing the same thing, which is nothing. The reader can see that such a saying is not worth the paper it is written on, an expression which here means 'not a very useful description for people, wolves or sheep'. Despite being not very useful, the expression is commonly used to refer to somebody who seems friendly, like a sheep, but turns out to have sinister intentions, like a wolf pretending to be a sheep only so that he can devour the shepherd's children. The three Baudelaire children wouldn't have used such an expression, but each secretly wondered whether their new guardian was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"I think we should tell Arwen San Conflegro that we are not happy with his scheme," said Violet after a pause.

"I think you're right," Klaus agreed.

"Concer," Sunny nodded.

"Arwen San Conflegro?" Violet called their guardian's name, even as she heard his footsteps coming down the corridor.

"Yes Violet Baudelaire?" Arwen replied, appearing immediately in the doorway.

"We are hesitant to go ahead with the scheme," she told their guardian.

"Yes, yes. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. But, equally, he who hesitates is lost. You are in quite a tricky dilemna."

"Not really," said Klaus, well aware that the existence of contradictory expressions doesn't necessarily mean that one in a tricky dilemna. "It's just, it's a very dangerous plan, from out point of view. What if Olaf got hold of the real knife first? What if I were really stabbed?"

"Ah, Klaus Baudelaire, you can speak your heart with me. What three are really concerned about is the possibility that I am a wolf in sheep's clothing! Very clever, very good. Perhaps we can come up with a solution to this problem, and allay your fears", a phrase which here means 'convince you that the real plot is not to kill you'.

"I don't think so," said Violet. "We don't think that there's a simple solution, we simply do not want to be part of this plan."

"Ah, but you wouldn't object to a plan much like it taking place, provided it didn't involve you directly?" asked Arwen with a glint in his eye.

"No, what my sister means is -" But Klaus didn't get a chance to explain what Violet meant, because at that moment the doorbell rang.

"Oh! More guests! What a delightful start to the day," said Arwen, rubbing his hands together and looking at each of the Baudelaires in turn. "Let's not talk schemes and villains any more. Why don't you go down and answer the door? I'm sure you'll be very happy with who is there."

Violet looked at Klaus, and Klaus looked at Violet, and then they both looked at Sunny.

"Do you think -"

"Could it really be -"

"Quagmire!"

The three children turned and ran along the mirrored hallways, until they reached the stairs. The three of them stopped at the landing, and looked down at a film poster which caught their eye.

The title of the film was "The Power of the Man Behind the Camera," and the image was of a figure wearing a coat and a hat and holding a film camera up to their eye. Out of the camera poured rolls and rolls of celluloid film with all kinds of scenes depicted on it, and the person holding the camera (probably a man, thought Violet, judging by the title) had a smile on his face which could have meant anything.

The Baudelaires continued down the stairs and past the movie poster, but as soon as they turned the corner and saw the studio they stopped again, and gazed out in wonder. The weather machine was operating once more, only this time instead of clouds it was generating a thick, shimmering mist.

"It looks like we're looking into a cloud," said Violet. "It's beautiful."

"And very mysterious," said Klaus.

Violet walked down the last few steps, held her arm out into the thick fog, and closed her eyes. The cold mist swirled around her wrist and drops of conensation formed on her hand. She took another step forward and the mist was so thick that she totally disappeared from the sight of her siblings. Her brain knew that she was standing in the Arwen San Conflegro's aboveground basement studio, but her body felt sure that she had just stepped out of a tent pitched high on a mountainside surrounded by clouds. Of course, not even the most beautiful and mysterious cloud in all the world could stop the gears of Violet's inventing brain from ticking over for even one moment, so her thoughts quickly returned to the weather machine and how it worked. If Klaus and Sunny had been able to see, they would have seen their sister take a ribbon out of her pocket and tie her hair back, as she thought about how such a small machine could create so much fog.

"How can such a small machine create so much fog?" she said. "It just doesn't make sense!"

"I'm sure you're right," Klaus said quietly, "but perhaps we should try to find the door and see the Quagmires and then we can wonder about the weather machine afterwards."

"Oh! Of course, there'll be plenty of time to think about the machine later. Sorry Klaus and Sunny." She took her ribben out of her hair as Klaus and Sunny stepped forward into the fog.

"I think it was over there," she said pointing into the fog.

"I agree," said Klaus, and they both set off in opposite directions and immediately bumped into each other.

"Ouch," said Violet.

"My glasses!" said Klaus. "They've fallen down, and I can't see the floor through all this mist."

"Rekalla," said Sunny, handing her brother his glasses, which I'm happy to say were not broken.

"Sunny! How did you find them so quickly?"

"Horse," she replid, and her siblings knelt down to see what she meant.

"You're right, the view from down here is a lot clearer," said Violet.

Politicians among you will know that when you cross the floor, sometimes you will want to do it as quietly as possible in the hope that your fellow politicians are less likely to notice you do it. Sometimes, however, you are content to follow somebody else's example as they lead you through the unknown, even if you can't see where you're going. The case of Violet and Klaus, I'm happy to say, was the latter one. I'm rather less happy to say that as Sunny led them by the hand through the thick fog, seeing as she could the heavy black door on the opposite side of the room, it was the last piece of helpful guidance they were to receive during their stay at Arwen San Conflegro's home. I wish with all my heart that I could write a sentence like "Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire had somebody to lead them through the impenetrable fog that shrouded so much of their life in the way that Sunny could lead them now," but I am unable to write such a thing.

As they were reaching the door, the fog was starting to thin out - they were on the furthest side of the room from the weather machine - and the outline of the black door was coming into view. The door had a small peep hole, so that a nervous homeowner could peer out and see who was coming. One can immediately see how useful it would be if one was afraid of certain journalists, detectives or waitresses who could arrive at your door at any time. Violet thought about how her aunt Josephine, who had been of very nervous disposition, would have liked to have something like it on her own door. Sunny, however, had noticed something else about the door which their aunt would have appreciated. Aunt Josephine had been afraid that her doorknobs might suddenly shatter into millions of sharp, dangerous pieces, and so she would have been happy to see that the front door of Arwen San Conflegro's home had no doorknob at all. It had no handle of any kind, in fact. The doorbell rang again, and Violet wanted to put her eye close to the peephole, to see if it really was the Quagmires outside, but she wanted to open the door first. Better not to be disappointed, she thought. The three siblings looked at each other and suddenly the mist reminded them more of smoke, and the studio of Arwen San Conflegro, with Count Olaf in the bedroom upstairs, suddenly felt very much like a trap.


	6. Through the Fog

"Can you invent a way to open the door?" said Klaus to his sister, who had already tied her hair back.

"It might be possible to invent a lockpick," she said thoughtfully.

Klaus moved his eye to the peephole, and through it he saw something to make his heart leap - the figures of Duncan and Isadora Quagmire, the noble friends of the Baudelaires who he had feared he would never see again. They were looking up at the door, and he watched Isadora reach over to press the doorbell one more time, and heard its chimes echoing throughout the studio. Isadora and Duncan looked at each other, and Klaus saw Duncan take out a green commonplace book and begin leafing through it.

"It seems like there's no gap at all between the door and the wall, I don't know how to open it," said Violet, but before either of her siblings could reply, the sound of footsteps appeared behind them, very close.

"Oh, how silly of me," came the voice of Arwen San Conflegro. "I entirely forgot that you wouldn't be able to open the door! I'm terribly sorry, Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire."

Arwen walked past the children to the door, and placed his palm on certain spot on the wall beside it. There was a beep and a click, and the door swung open, as Arwen stepped back into the fog of the studio.

The expression "small mercies" refers to moments where something good happens in the middle of many terrible things. If you find yourself trapped in a library, for instance, you might be thankful for the small mercy that there will be plenty of interesting books to read in the meantime. Or if you have had the misfortune to be born a human being, with the ability to predict with terrifying certainty your inevitable future oblivion, you might be thankful for the small mercy of managing to fall in love.

The idea of spark of light shining bravely out of the darkness is a popular analogy used to refer to small mercies. This analogy, I'm sorry to say, is not very good, despite its popularity and despite its upcoming use by a very clever young person. A much better analogy would be a small patch of darkness and quietness in a world of blaring lights and noise. Anybody who has attempted to find such a place knows the truth of what I am going to say and that is that a quiet, dark place in a sea of noise will become immediately swamped with the light and the sounds that wash over from the vast sea. A small mercy is not really a candle in the darkness, providing a comforting circle of warm light - it is a candle at the bottom of the ocean, and like that candle, it will be swiftly extinguished.

The Baudelaire orphans experienced a small mercy as the door opened and they ran outside to embrace their friends. Violet hugged Duncan, and Klaus hugged Isadora, and Sunny shrieked with joy and hugged Violet's legs, who picked her up so that she could greet her friends properly.

"Baudelaires! It's so wonderful to see you," said Isadora, pulling away from Klaus and leaning over to embrace Violet.

"Yes," said Duncan, as he let go of Violet and hugged Klaus and Sunny. "I was worried that we had the wrong address, but no - it's written right here in my commonplace book."

"Oh it is, we are so glad that you're safe," said Violet. "Seeing you is a light shining out of the darkness."

Klaus nodded, remembering where the Quagmires had been, and the direction they were heading, when the Baudelaires had seen them last. "But how did you get down?"

"Oh, it was quite a adventure, that's for sure," said Duncan.

"I wrote a couplet about it," said Isadora. "We escaped from Olaf's spectre,  
Thanks to a device of - "

"I'm sure the Baudelaires can listen to some poetry later," said Duncan, interrupting his sister. "We have so much to tell you and I'm sure that you have much to tell us, too."

"And we finally have time," said Isadora, standing on the front steps of Arwen San Conflegro's house.

At that moment, Arwen decided to emerge from the studio, smiling and holding his hands wide. "If it isn't Duncan and Isadora Quagmire."

"Yes sir," said Duncan.

Isadora held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Arwen shook her hand, and Duncan held out his own. "We understand that you are our new guardian?"

"That is quite correct. My name is Arwen, but you can call me Arwen San Conflegro."

He stood back from the children so that he could see all five of them at once, Isadora, Violet with Sunny in her arms, Duncan, and Klaus, all standing on the front steps, their faces glowing with happiness on being reunited. "Don't you make a pretty picture," said Arwen, folding his arms and smiling faintly. "Now you must excuse me as I have to go and work on my latest film, but Violet and Klaus Baudelaire, why don't you give the twins a tour of the house?"

When he said this, Duncan and Isadora's faces fell, and they looked at each other sadly.

"Actually," Isadora said, "we're triplets."

"I see," said Arwen, and the Baudelaires wondered whether he really did see, and if he did see, how much he saw, but the Quagmires merely nodded, and turned to the Baudelaires.

The Baudelaires smiled at their friends, as a tear rolled down Duncan's cheek. "I'm so happy," he said, "really this is wonderful. Oh Baudelaires, I'm so glad to see you," and he hugged Violet again.

You may be familiar with the expression 'Don't shoot the messenger.' It is an expression which is becoming sadly irrelevant in our digital age, where most bad news is delivered, much like this account of the Baudelaire orphans and the treachery which always follows close behind them, by pixels on a computer screen. Shooting pixels on your computer screen is generally understood to be a bad idea, so much so that an expression is probably not required. However, at certain times in the past, and at certain times in the lives of the Baudelaire orphans and their associates, bad news was delivered in person, and the expression "don't shoot the messenger" is one used by messengers to ask that the recipient of the message refrain from shooting them.

"But there is something we should tell you," said Violet.

"And please don't shoot the messenger," said Klaus.

"Olaf," said Sunny.

"Sunny means that Count Olaf is here," said Violet.

"In this house," added Klaus.

Isadora leant forward and whispered "Is your guardian really Olaf in disguise? If so, it's much better than his usual disguises..."

"Oh, no of course not," Klaus whispered back. "Count Olaf is upstairs, locked in a bedroom."

A look of hope crossed the Quagmire faces, but Violet shook her head. "It's more complicated than that," she said, before raising her voice so that Arwen could hear the rest of the conversation. "Why don't you come inside?"

"An excellent idea Violet Baudelaire," the voice of their guardian boomed from the doorway. "Show Duncan and Isadora Quagmire inside. I myself must return to my work, as I mentioned earlier, but I'll join you for dinner at, oh let's say, five pm. It will be lovely, our first dinner together as one big family."

Arwen bowed and retreated into the fog, leaving the quintet of children standing on the steps with mixed feelings. Violet's mixed feelings were caused by Arwen's use of the word "family". She felt sad, because it made her think of the terrible fate which had befallen her parents, but at the same time she felt happy that the Quagmires were part of her family now. She felt uncertain, because she wasn't sure whether her guardian had intended to include Count Olaf in their one big family. Klaus' mixed feelings were caused by showing the Quagmires into the house. He felt happy because he was welcoming into his home, but sad because it wasn't really his home and his real home - like his real parents - had been turned into ashes. He felt uncertain because he was welcoming them into a home which contained Count Olaf, imprisoned in a bedroom though he was. Sunny was experiencing what she would have described as "Raskol", a complicated word describing all of her siblings' feelins, along with some additional uncertainty caused by her guardian's unusually early dinner plans. Never in her short life had she known anybody to eat such a large meal at such an early hour. It was a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world she was experiencing, that was for sure. So the Baudelaires took the hands of the Quagmires, and together they walked into the fog.

"I can't see anything at all," said Isadora.

Duncan nodded in agreement, though of course nobody could see him do so in the thick fog. "How do you find your way around?"

"We just follow Sunny," said Violet, turning to Duncan, who had no idea that she was doing it.

"Calajane," said Sunny firmly, leading her siblings and friends through the dense, low cloud.

"I don't want to be nosy, but I can't help asking, why is this room so full of cloud?" said Duncan, wishing he could see enough to take out his commonplace book and jot down the answer.

"It's the Weather Machine," said Violet, as she listened to the footsteps of her guardian fading away. "You see, this is a film studio, and Arwen San Conflegro wants to film scenes in all kinds of weather, and the machine lets him do that without leaving the studio."

Isadora's eyes widened, unseen by her companions. "Weather machine?"

"Yes," said Violet, "this is a film studio you see, and Arwen San Conflegro has a weather machine so that he can film lots of different scenes in all kinds of weather, without even going outside."

"A weather machine sounds like something you'd find very interesting, Violet," said Duncan, as his look of admiration was being totally masked by the heavy blanket of fog.

"Yes, well, you'd think so," said Violet, "but actually when I saw it, it was just a small black box with a few buttons. I was expecting something much larger, with all kinds of gears, cables and chambers. It's very strange."

"That does sound strange," said Isadora. "What kind of films does Arwen San Conflegro make?"

"Well, that's the second strange thing," said Klaus, tilting his head backwards so that his glasses wouldn't slip off. "He wants to make a film about VFD."

"VFD?"

"That's right."

Isadora shook her head in disbelief, a gesture noticed only by the bank of cloud. "Why would he do that?"

Klaus shook his head too, purely for the benefit of the fog, if it was watching, which it wasn't. "I don't know."

"I can guess," said Duncan. "The story of VFD is a very interesting one, it's a very fascinating, umm, discourse."

"Discourse?" said Violet.

"It means discussion or conversation," said Klaus.

"Yes, well, it mightn't've been the best word to choose," said Duncan. "But what I mean is, I can see the appeal in wanting to make a film like that. It really is quite a story."

"But it isn't just one story, is it," said Violet.

"What do you mean?" Isadora asked.

"Well, VFD isn't like a machine, with each part playing a separate role but all necessary to serve a single, overall purpose," she said.

"Or a novel, where all of its separate threads serve a single narrative arc," said Klaus.

"Moderno," said Sunny, which meant something like "Or a cookbook, where each page has a distinct, self contained recipe."

"I think I understand," said Duncan. "It's like a newspaper, where each article summarises a different event, but all through the same prism of understanding."

"Or like a poem, where each symbol contributes to an overall theme," said Isadora.

"No, VFD is not like those things," said Violet. "That's exactly what it isn't."

"Oh, I see," said Duncan, looking in the direction of where he thought Isadora might be, but actually looking at Klaus.

"It's more like a busy factory workshop, with all sorts of machines with varying, often contradictory purposes all at different stages of completion."

"Or the Western Literary Canon," said Klaus, "a vast trove of ideas intertwined both with each other, and with the personal and cultural context in which they were created."

"Coria," said Sunny, and her siblings explained that she was drawing on the analogy of a cuisine, a constantly shifting collection of individual dishes that can only be coherently understood through reference to other cuisines external to it.

"I think I understand," said Isadora. "It's like a whole book of poetry, where each poem addresses something different."

"No, not exactly," said Klaus.

"So it's more like all the newspapers in one city, because it contains all kinds of views," said Duncan.

"Not really," said Violet, "it's not quite that simple."

"If anything," said Klaus, "it's more like the abstract idea of news - you can usually know it when you see it, but not always, and people often disagree on whether it is or isn't."

"But VFD is a clearly defined organisation," said Duncan. "Either someone's in it, or they're not."

"I don't know about that," said Klaus, and Violet nodded.

Violet thought about Mr Poe, and Klaus thought about Jerome, and they wondered whether they could be said to be a part of VFD or not, and Sunny thought about Olivia. And all three siblings thought about three other people who couldn't be sure if they were members of VFD or not, and their names, of course, were Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire.

"So then how do you make a film out of something like VFD," said Isadora.

"It's impossible," said Duncan, "no film could capture perfectly something so, so ... "

"Equivocal?" said Klaus, using a word which here means "able to be interpreted in a thousand different ways, many of them contradictory, but all of them containing heartbreak, treachery and a sugar bowl."

"Escher!" said Sunny, which was her way of announcing that they had arrived at the foot of a staircase.

"So I guess we won't be able to be shown around the studio just yet," said Isadora, as she started to climb the stairs.

"Not until the fog is cleared," said Violet, looking back down at the thick white mist that obscured the entire studio.

"But there are some ... interesting things to look at upstairs," said Klaus.

"Interesting? That doesn't sound too good," said Isadora.

"But it doesn't sound too bad," said Duncan.

"I don't even know where to start," said Violet, as the children climbed higher.

The Baudelaires had seen the film posters before, but the Quagmires hadn't, and so they made slow progress up the long staircase while Isadora and Duncan looked at all the strange movies that Arwen San Conflegro had created.

"I think that one was about a wedding between two salmon," said Violet, trying to remember the film that her guardian had explained the day before.

"And I think this one is about eagles stealing a submarine," said Klaus.

Before Sunny could misremember the plot of Arwen's only unsuccessful movie, the children heard the sound of footsteps, specifically the sound of dirty feet in shabby shoes, carrying a tattooed ankle around the room in which Count Olaf was currently imprisoned. Klaus and Violet looked at each other, wondering if it was right to have brought this bad news into the lives of the Quagmires. They wondered whether maybe it would have been best to keep the facts of Olaf's presence as hidden away as the Count himself, and gazed at the Quagmires, who were still looking at the movie posters. Despite their uncertainty, they were right to tell their friends - like splinters, and unlike the truth, a hidden villian will always come out sooner or later.

"Olaf", said Sunny, raising an eyebrow at her siblings.

"I don't think we need that word translated," said Isadora, turning around from the posters to face the Baudelaires and listening to the footsteps.

"It's a word we've heard more than enough," said Duncan sadly.

"How did he come to be here?" said Isadora.

"He tried to fool Arwen with one of his disguises, but Arwen saw right through it and imprisoned Olaf in the room," said Violet.

"Chekov," said Sunny, and Klaus explained that she meant something along the lines of "he hasn't managed to cause any trouble - yet."

"Arwen hasn't called the authorities," said Violet, "because he wants Count Olaf to star in one of his films."

"But Count Olaf is a terrible actor!" said Isadora.

"I know, I agree." said Violet, nodding. "The truth is that Arwen has a plan for his VFD film, but we can fill you in on it a little later." Violet sighed, and looked at Klaus. "Why don't you show Isadora the library where Arwen keeps all of the books he uses to research his films, and I'll go and have a look at the workshop with Duncan. Then we can meet back here afterwards and decide what we're going to do."

"Ok, that sounds like a good idea," said Klaus. "I've been looking forward to checking out the library. Sunny, why don't you go with Violet, there will probably be more interesting things to bite in the workshop than in the library."

"Newark", Sunny said, nodding, as Violet bent over to scoop her up.

The five children finished climbing the stairs, and the Baudelaires took a few more steps before they realised that the Quagmires were no longer following them.

"This place," said Duncan.

"It's so strange!" said Isadora.

"Yeah," said Violet, nodding and remembering how stunned she'd been on seeing the mirrors for the first time.

"The corridors really aren't in keeping with the open plan of the studio, are they?" said Klaus with a smile, repeating Arwen's description.

"What?" said Duncan, looking oddly at Klaus. "I meant the mirrors, this is so strange, it's like some kind of carnival."

"Don't mind Klaus, he's trying to make a joke," said Violet. "I wish I could say that you'll get used to the mirrors, but I'm not sure it's true."

"And I wish," said Klaus, "that I could tell you that the bedrooms aren't even worse, but I am sure that it's false."

"Perhaps the workshop will be different," said Duncan.

"Or the library," said Isadora.

"I sure hope so," said Violet, and she started walking down the middle corridor, which led to the library, kitchen and studio. The other children followed her, the Baudelaires looking at their feet to avoid the mirrors and the Quagmires looking in awe around them.

"What are those," said Duncan, pointing to the black sprinklers that hung from the ceiling.

"Those are Vaporous Flame Dampeners," said Klaus, as Duncan took out his commonplace book and started to take notes. "It's a sprinkler system, in case there's a fire."

"Oh, well that's a relief, I suppose," said Isadora, looking up at the sprinkler which hung over her head, and the children kept walking.

"Well, here's the workshop," said Violet. "We'll go and have a look around here, and then I want to take another look at the weather machine. We can meet you two in the kitchen for lunch."

"Sounds like a plan," said Klaus, as he and Isadora continued down the corridor.

Violet turned back to the workshop door, and pushed it open. The room was dark, but it was fitted with an automatic light which flickered on as soon as she stepped inside. The light revealed a huge workshop, full of all kinds of machines and construction materials. Violet's inventing brain tried to take in every item in the room at once. She saw anvils and bearings, cardboard and drillbits, eagle feathers and gears, but before she could finish taking in everything her eyes set on a human figure, hunched over one of the work benches, who turned around in surprise as the lights turned on.


	7. A Matter Of Perspective

"Oh!" said the human figure.

"Hello?" said Violet Baudelaire.

"Oh, you must be three of Arwen's adoptees." Violet could see that the speaker was one of Arwen San Conflegro's employees, and she remembered that this was Victor or Victoria. They were still wearing their purple suit, which covered their hair as well as the rest of their body.

"Yes, I'm Violet and this is my sister Sunny, and this is Duncan Quagmire, he's going to be living here too," said Violet, gesturing towards the door where Duncan was still standing.

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you Duncan. You can call me Victor or, if you like, Victoria. Isn't this starting to become quite a family! Oh, but I see that you're wearing the same clothes that you were wearing yesterday. Arwen has asked me to tell you that he is sorry for overlooking this matter yesterday, but that you will have new clothes tomorrow. I will lay them out in your rooms for you." Victoria walked over to the children, their feet making no noise whatsoever as they strode across the wooden studio floor. "Oh it is a pleasure to meet you all, Violet, Sunny and Duncan."

Victor shook each of the children's hands in turn, before silently striding back to the bench they had been leaning over.

"Sorry to have interrupted you," said Violet, who was well-mannered. "We were just going to have a look around the workshop, but if you're busy here we can come back later."

"Oh no, it's no trouble. I was just looking at some angles that I might be able to use for our next film, but I'm finished now so please yourselves. I'm an actor, you see, but I'm also a part-time cinematographer. My job in Arwen San Conflegro's films is to make it look like things are happening when really they aren't."

"I see," said Violet, placing Sunny on the ground so that she could search the workshop for something she would like to bite. Ordinarily, a workshop is no place for babies, but Sunny had spent time in a lumbermill, a cage hanging from a very high tower, and in the office of a very bad violin player, so her older sister wasn't worried about her.

"That sounds like a very interesting job," said Duncan. Duncan was a budding journalist, and he was glad of the opportunity to interview somebody with an interesting career.

"Oh yes, it is. It is interesting developing new techniques for filming, and cinematography is a very important part of the film-making process."

"What techniques are you working on now?"

"Oh, at the moment I'm looking at angles. You can make something look like almost anything else by using the right angles. For instance, see where Violet is standing, I'm going to take this anvil, and hold it up here. What does it look like to you?"

Duncan thought that it looked like a woman holding an anvil, and said so.

"Oh come over here, and stand behind this bench, and crouch down like this. No, not like that, like this. Ok now hold you hand up like this, pretending it's a movie camera. Now what does it look like?"

"I guess it looks like Violet is standing on the table, and she's very small, and the anvil is very large."

"Oh yes, that's exactly right. Now if we painted a background to look like the other half of the table, Violet really would look miniature."

"I suppose she would," said Duncan, standing up.

"Oh and don't forget there are lots of other techniques that a cinematographer can use. There are matte shots, stop tricks, different coloured filters, models, miniatures, and a technique I invented myself, called the Victcut. But the angles are always very important, no matter which technique you use."

While Duncan had been speaking to Victoria, Violet had started looking around the studio. There were all sorts of wonderful machines and pieces of machines that she could imagine all sorts of uses for, as well as a small hole in the wall with some cables, that looked like a miniature elevator shaft.

"What is this?" she asked Victor, walking over to the device. Victoria glided over to where Violet was standing, and told her.

"A dumb what?" said Violet.

"Oh, a dumb waiter is a little pulley system to send things up and down. You might find them in big old mansions with servants, so the servants can send up meals to diners upstairs. We use it here to send props and other things to the studio down below, and once we used it as a model elevator shaft."

Violet looked at Duncan, and they both thought back to their recent shared experiences of elevator shafts.

"Oh would you look at the time, I'd better be going," said Victor. "Enjoy exploring the workshop Violet, bye bye Sunny, and nice to meet you Duncan."

"Likewise," said Duncan, still writing in his commonplace book.

Victoria left the room, leaving the two children alone.

"They seemed like an interesting person," said Duncan, but Violet gave no reply. "Violet?"

"Look at this," she said finally, holding up a piece of metal consisting of various tubes all twisted and tangled like three snakes trying to strangle each other. "This is a catalytic converter - exactly the kind of thing I'd expect to find in a Weather Machine. But the machine itself is just a tiny black box." She put the catalytic converter on one of the benches and tied her hair up with her ribbon, thinking about the weather machine.

"Hmm, that's interesting," said Duncan, "perhaps I could interview Arwen San Conflegro about it."

"Yes perhaps," said Violet, but she was thinking that sometimes the skills of, say, a researcher are much more useful than the skills of a journalist, who simply reports on the research that others have done. After all, Arwen San Conflegro had already told her that there was nothing more to learn from the weather machine. Why would he tell a journalist anything differently? Besides, the machine could just be made of parts she couldn't understand so easily, like the parts inside Nero's computer at Prufrock Preparatory school and others like it.

"Violet," said Duncan, "why don't you tell me what's going on here? It feels like I've just walked into this strange story and nobody has told me the plot."

Violet looked at Duncan, and nodded. "That's how we feel a little bit too. It's like somebody snatched us out of our stories and placed us here for unclear reasons, it's been quite a disorienting experience. But I'll tell you what we konw."

And so Violet explained to Duncan how Arwen had cleared the Baudelaires' names through connections with the Daily Punctilio, and so they were no longer on the run, and how he intended to create a film about VFD, featuring the Baudelaires, the Quagmires, and Count Olaf. She considered telling him about the proposal to have Olaf rightfully, though technically wrongfully, arrested, but decided not to.

Chapter 7.1: No Time for Books

While Violet and Duncan were exploring the workshop, Klaus and Isadora continued down the corridor towards the library.

Klaus opened the door and entered, slowly. Walking into a library is like arriving late to a funeral - it is best to do so quietly, without drawing attention to yourself. Isadora followed close behind him, and neither spoke for a few moments as they looked at the huge number of books on the shelves.

"This is an amazing library," said Isadora, gazing at a booked called 'The best unpublished poetry: Published here for the first time.'

"It certainly seems that way," said Klaus, looking at a book called 'A catalogue of all the catalogues in the library.' He took the book of the shelf, and saw that somebody had crossed out the word 'catalogue' on the front cover, and written 'Index' in very neat handwriting.

Having neat handwriting is, fortunately, a trait that many people share. Willingness to deface a book is, unfortunately, also such a trait. However, it is not common that somebody should have both traits at once. Klaus did not know what to make of the book he held on his hands, but before he could ask for Isadora's opinion, the book behind the index of catalogues vanished from the shelf. Klaus stepped back, looking warily at the gap the two missing books had left, though which it was possible to see into the next aisle. What he saw there was, as you may have guessed, the figure who had removed the book.

"Hello there," said the figure.

"Hello," said Klaus.

The book was replaced, and Klaus could hear the footsteps of the figure recede down the aisle, turn the corner, and then he both saw and heard the person walk towards him. It was one of Arwen's employees, the woman who had been wearing the red outfit. Klaus saw that she was still wearing it.

"My name is Ilsa," said Ilsa. "You must be Klaus," she said to Klaus, "and you must be Isadora," she said to Isadora.

"That's right, that's us. We're just having a look at the library," said Isadora.

"Having a look for books, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Klaus. "That is usually what one looks for in a library."

"I usually have no time for books myself," said Ilsa. "I've just come here to do some research for Arwen's new film."

"No time for books?" said Klaus, alarmed. "Why?"

"My passion is for films. The difference is that unlike a book, the camera records real people doing real things," said Ilsa.

Klaus ran his eyes along the spines of the books on the wide shelves. "But people are just pretending," he said, "even if they're real people."

Ilsa laughed. "And they don't pretend in real life? A filmmaker's job is to tell stories, bring a certain truth to the screen."

"That sounds just like the job of an novellist," said Klaus.

"Or a poet," said Isadora.

"Not at all," said Ilsa, shaking her head. "If a writer says that a rich man finds happiness swinging a farm implement, what shape is the implement?"

"Curved," said Klaus, remembering his mother reading aloud words by a writer who had said just that.

"Or if a poet says that three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree, who's to say what they really meant?"

"They meant that three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree," said Isadora.

"No, a book or a poem is simply an invitation to entertain a particular notion, which leaves a trail of ambiguous details behind itself, whereas a film is a proper record," said Ilsa, gripping the book she was holding very tightly.

"What are you researching," said Klaus, to change the subject.

"I'm looking up material for a film," said Ilsa, and Klaus tilted his head so as to see the title of the book she was holding, but Ilsa shifted her feet just slightly, in the way people often do when they are standing up for any length of time, and the title was taken out of his line of sight.

"We're just having a look around," said Isadora.

"Are you," said Ilsa. "You've come to the right place. There are books here on everything from Queen Victoria to Quetzalcoatl, and from all over the alphabet. There's even a history of this studio."

"Thanks," said Klaus. "Well it was nice to meet you, we're going to keep browsing."

"Like a giraffe," said Ilsa, and laughed the type of laugh people use when it is clear that they don't expect you to laugh along with them, either because you are too dim to perceive the joke, or the joke is aimed at you.

"I'm sorry?" said Isadora, who had been looking for the poetry section and not entirely paying attention to what Ilsa was saying.

"Browsing. It's a word for when a giraffe looks for leaves," said Ilsa.

"Actually," said Klaus, "browsing can refer to many kinds of animal, not just a giraffe, and it can refer to searching for things other than leaves, like books or sheets of paper."

"I know that," said Ilsa.

"Hey Klaus," said Isadora, "let's go down this way, I found the poetry section."

"Sure," said Klaus and followed Isadora through the aisles, though there were other sections of the library which he would have preferred to the poetry section. Even the section on mechanical devices, which were the kind of books Violet liked to read, seemed to Klaus to be more interesting than poetry.

If you have read the previous chapter, you will know what Violet told Duncan in explanation of the situation that the Baudelaires, and now the Quagmires, found themselves in and you probably would be displeased if I were to repeat that explanation here. If you haven't read the previous chapter, then it's not clear to me why you are reading this one right now, and it is difficult for me to guess what would please or displease you any more than I can guess at what might please or displease the grumpy geese which live in my front yard. It is therefore not necessary to repeat the information about how Arwen had cleared the Baudelaires names through connections with the Daily Punctilio, so that the Baudelaires were no longer on the run. You already know how he intended to create a film about VFD, featuring the Baudelaires, the Quagmires, and Count Olaf. Klaus almost mentioned the proposal to bring Olaf to justice, albeit technically unjustly, but he didn't say anything about it, so there is no need to mention it here.

Chapter 7.2: Wedges

After Klaus and Isadora had spent some time in the library, and Violet and Duncan had spent some time in the workshop, it was time for all of them to have dinner with their guardian.

"Look at the time," said Klaus looked up from the book he was reading to glance at the clock in the corner of the library. At almost the same moment, Violet put down a gear she happened to be holding and said almost the same thing to Duncan. "I'd pick you up, Sunny, but my hands are covered with grease and I don't want to get your outfit dirty."

"Aias," said Sunny.

"You're right," said Violet, looking at her sister. Sunny had been crawling around the workshop for several hours, and was already so dirty that Violet's oily hands could scarcely make any difference whatsoever. Violet walked over to her sister and picked her up, gestured to Duncan, and walked into the kitchen. When she opened the door, she saw Klaus and Isadora were already there, sitting at the table and drinking glasses of water.

"Hi Violet," said Klaus, placing his glass on the table. "I hope you enjoyed the workshop as much as we enjoyed the library."

"Oh Klaus, it's wonderful. So many machine parts, and all kinds of devices. There are so many things I could make. I think I'm really going to enjoy spending time there."

"I'm glad," said Klaus, and then he was quiet for a moment. "You know," he continued, "Until you said that, I hadn't really thought that we would be here for any lenght of time. You know, we've always been on the move, always rushing from one place to another. But the way you said that, made me realise that we'll have time here. We'll have time to write poetry, learn about journalism, read books, make devices, and bite things."

A tear rolled down Klaus' cheek, as he began to think about what it would be like to return to a relatively normal childhood. Sure, the house they lived in was a little strange, he thought to himself, but they'd lived in worse places, damper places, places with either fewer beds or more crabs.

Of course, anybody who is remotely familiar with the sorry tale of the Baudelaire Orphans will guess, even if they cannot be entirely certain, that the stability that Klaus desires will not come to pass - a phrase which here means 'will not happen at all, or at least, for a very long time'.

"I hope you're right," said Violet. "But there is something we should talk about while we're all here together and before Arwen comes in."

"Agreed," said Klaus.

"What is it?" said Isadora.

"It's this," said Violet. "It's the film."

"Which film," said Duncan.

"Our film. Or at least, the film that Arwen San Conflegro would like us to make. About VFD." Violet ended her statement heavily, so that it sounded the way somebody looks when they put down a heavy object they've just carried up the stairs.

Duncan and Isadora glanced at each other across the table, and then looked at the Baudelaire siblings.

"Baudelaires," said Duncan, "I know that VFD had given us a lot of problems."

"But we don't know why this film has made you so on edge," said Isadora. "It's just a film-it would be fun to act together."

"Olaf?" said Sunny.

"It's true, it will be uncomfortable being around Olaf," said Isadora, nodding at the youngest Baudelaire.

"But well, we've gotten used to being around Olaf," said Duncan.

"And at least this time, he's more of a captive than we are," said Isadora.

"To be honest, I can't see a reason not to participate in a straightforward film," said Duncan.

"What bad could come of it?" asked Isadora.

Klaus and Violet looked at each other, not knowing how to convey their discomfort to their friends. At this moment, my dear readers, you might find yourself asking the question, 'why didn't they explain Arwen San Conflegro's plot, to use the film to have Count Olaf arrested?'

This is, of course, the right question. After all, it showed Arwen's capacity for deviousness and treachery, and explained why the Baudelaires found themselves unable to take the proposed film at face value. Arwen wanted Count Olaf to stab Klaus in the film, only for Klaus, or perhaps Violet, to cry murder and have the police storm the set. Then Klaus, or perhaps Sunny, would switch the prop knife for a real knife, resulting in Count Olaf being arrested for attempted murder.

So why wouldn't they, at this crucial moment in their discussion with the Quagmires? There are three answers. The first is bravery. Violet and Klaus didn't want to force the Quagmires to face the same moral dilemma as the Baudelaires, forced to examine their own capacity for treachery. Therefore, they wanted to carry the burden of the scheme themselves. The second answer is fear. To mention the scheme would bring it up to the surface, in the same way that a fisher who catches a dangerous fish might reel it in only to hesitate while the fish lurks just below the water, unwilling to take the final step of bringing the danger into the boat. Violet and Klaus were afraid to bring up the plot, so as not to make it real. The third reason was that these things are simply a matter perspective. The Baudelaires probably thought they could bring it up later, or that what they said at this moment, at this table wouldn't turn out to be important. It might be easy, from the point of view of a reader of this story, to see that this is not true. To see that this moment matters, and that there won't be a chance to make amends. But the reader has the advantage (or perhaps disadvantage) of this interlude to highlight the importance of this moment. The reader also knows that a writer will not include moments which to the story are not germane-a word which here means 'likely to lead the Baudelaire Orphans to yet further misery'. But the characters in this story have no such advantages. Like you or I, they are assailed with thousands of details every day, from the brand of the pasta in Arwen's cupboard to the font used in his film posters, without having the benefit of a writer to curate which details and conversations are germane. So please, dear readers, do not allow your disappointment that the Baudelaires have allowed a wedge to settle between themselves and the Quagmires at what I assure you is a very important moment in the story to colour your judgement of the noble and thoughtful siblings.

"Perhaps you're right," said Violet with a sigh. "It would be fun to make the film, hopefully there will be props to make in the workshop."

"And Ilsa was in the library today doing research for a film," said Klaus with a faint smile, "so there'll probably be research required for a film about VFD."

"That's the spirit," said Isadora.

"It's going to be fun," said Duncan.


	8. No Turning Back

Just when the children had finished their discussion, Arwen San Conflegro walked into the kitchen.

"Ah, children," he said as he sat down at the table. "I'm glad you're all here together, we can discuss the film."

Violet nodded. "Yes, we can. But before you say anything, we have all decided that we would be happy to participate in it.

"I'm so happy to hear that, Violet Baudelaire."

The six family members sat down and engaged in some small talk. 'Small talk', you probably know, refers to the habit humans have of discussing things which are of no interest in themselves but nevertheless serve a purpose by facilitating conversation. There are many times in life when the act of engaging in a conversation has value quite apart from the content of what is discussed. Small talk can be used to build rapport between work colleagues, for example, or to re-establish friendly relations after a fracas. The word 'fracas', as you probably also know, means 'breaking an expensive electronic device which doesn't belong to you', and you would engage in small talk with your friend to test whether they were still mad, how mad they were, and whether you need to choose between replacing the device and replacing your friend.

Despite the occasional social utility of small talk, it was not something the Baudelaire children were particularly fond of, and soon enough Violet found herself growing restless.

"May I be excused," she said to Arwen San Conflegro, planning to go for a walk and stretch her legs.

"Of course you may, Violet Baudelaire, you never have to ask such a thing in your own house."

"Thanks," she said, and stood up from the table and walked down the mirrored hallway of her own house.

Before she had walked five steps, Violet ran into Rick, who was still wearing his green suit.

"Hi Rick," she said.

"Hello Violet I've, been meaning to say, something to you," he replied, in his off-putting, lilting tone of voice. Of course if Klaus was there, he would have explained that Rick's voice was essentially the opposite of lilting, but he wasn't, so he didn't.

"Have you."

"Yes it's not, so important or, it is important but it's not urgent."

"I see," Violet said, but this only caused a flash of annoyance to cross Rick's face.

"The thing Violet that, I want you to understand is that Arwen's films are, very important to him and it matters, to him that he makes them.  
And as long as he making, the films then everything here, will run smoothly but if, there are obstacles to the films then, you know the films unravel but every, thing is connected and one thing unravelling can make everything, unravel. Do, you see what I'm saying? That if you and your siblings do, not want to be, part of the film then, that could cause problems. Arwen wants, to treat you well but it's like a mirror the, reflections go both ways. It's an easy, thing for him to call the Daily Punctilio and tell, them he was wrong to clear your, names and you'll be, in trouble once, more."

Violet looked left, to her startled image in the hallway mirror, and then looked right, at her frightened reflection in the mirror on the opposite side.

"Did Arwen tell you to say that," she started to say, but before she could finish, she heard loud footsteps hurrying behind her, and turned to see her guardian hurry down the hallway.

"Oh Rick," Arwen called out.  
"I've been looking for you everywhere. You see, the Baudelaires have just agreed to become the stars of our new film. Isn't that good news? I just thought I should let you know."

"Oh that's very, good news," said Rick. "I'm glad to hear, that that's, happened and, sorry." He looked apologetically at Violet, or perhaps at Arwen, and shuffled back down the hallway in the direction he'd come from.

"He's a strange employee, that one," said Arwen. "Tends to really get into the character, even when he's not filming. When he was playing a wedding celebrant, he was walking up and down that hallway trying to marry everybody off. It really was quite something."

"Is he playing a character with an unusual way of speaking at the moment?"

"No, why do you ask that? Anyway, let's get back to the kitchen-your brother and sister have quite a meal going in there."

After dinner, Arwen had Ilsa bring a pile of booklets.

"Children, here are your scripts. Each line spoken by your character has been highlighted and has the actor's name written next to it. See?"

Arwen handed Klaus and Violet their scripts, placed Sunny's on the table in front of her, gave one each to the Quagmires and laid another in the center of the dining table along with a number of smaller scriptbooks.

Klaus began to leaf through his script, pausing to look up at his guardian. "I've read a lot of plays, and it is usual for them to use the characters' names, rather than the actors'."

Arwen smiled and placed his hands on the table, fingers interlocked. "Of course, but that's only if the actors are prone to change. And besides, I haven't named the characters yet. I personally find it one of the hardest parts of writing a script."

Violet tilted her head slightly as she looked at page seven of her script. "You could write scripts about pre-existing characters."

Arwen San Conflegro laughed and shook his head. "Nobody who calls themselves a writer would show such a lack of imagination."

"Yes, you're right," said Violet, and she smiled at Klaus, who shook his head to think of such a thing, and Duncan and Isadora and Sunny felt the same way. After a few moments, during which time the children resumed their reading, Arwen spoke again.

"So children," he said, "read the scripts. Also, may I ask you to take one to Count Olaf, if you don't mind."

Arwen said nothing about the other script books he had placed on the table, but simply looked at them, occasionally picking one up and then placing it back on the table. You might be familiar with the tedious habit many people have of deliberately refraining from mentioning something which they obviously want to mention, to the point where you are forced to ask them about it.

Violet pointed at the small booklets. "What are those," she felt forced to ask.

"Those are an optional extra scene, where a character gets arrested"-Arwen winked at the Baudelaires-"but I'm not sure if we'll use it."

"I see," said Klaus in a small voice.

The children continued reading through their scrips, scanning the pages and picking out random words. Submarine, eagle, elevator, mountain, and so on. It would take me the entire length of a film script to type out all the words that their eyes passed by.

Violet was the first to look up at their guardian. "It's a little confusing. There are lots of changes of setting but it seems there's no overall plot."

"Ah, a good observation, Violet Baudelaire. But you see, there is just such a plot, only you have to look a little closer. There will be a villain, who is put aside, but escapes. Then there will be a pursuit, through all kinds of fantastic locations, and then the ultimate and unambiguous defeat of the villain."

"That doesn't sound like the story of VFD," said Violet.

"But it is. It might not be the whole story of VFD, which is far too complicated for a single film. What I will present on screen will the the archetypal story"-a phrase which here means a single story to represent all others-"of VFD. Nobility and unnobility and so on and so forth."

Violet nodded in such a way as to show that she had heard, understood, and not entirely agreed with everything Arwen had said. "I'll take one to Olaf," she said.

Klaus looked up from the scene he had been reading, which was set inside a prison. "Why do you want Count Olaf to act in the film anyway?"

"For two reasons, Klaus Baudelaire. One of them you already know. The other one is that his ridiculous, outrageous and proposterous blend of arrogance, self-aggrandisement and unchecked egotism combined with his utter lack of theatrical talent makes him a delight to see on screen. I am also interested in hyper-realist cinema, where only villains play villains, only heroes play heroes, and only people with long hair play people with long hair. My cinematic goal is to break down the barriers between life on film and life in life. Right now, the cinema shows our best imaginings of ourselves, but we do ourselves a disservice!"-Arwen raised his voice and suddenly slammed his open palm on the kitchen table-"Instead we should show our best selves, as we are! Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire! Duncan and Isadora Quagmire! The human spirit must be allowed to soar freely and truly across the cinema screen!"

Arwen stopped speaking, breathing heavily and looking about the room. The Baudelaire orphans new guardian looked like a man possessed, but a man possessed to accomplish something quite minor. He reminded Klaus of a man he had met who owned a shop which sold nothing but different varieties of spoon, 'a single spoon for a single purpose' was the motto of the shop.

"So that's why you want Olaf to be in your film," said Klaus.

"Yes. Yes, that's why," said Arwen, having calmed down rapidly from his passionate speech. "See children, I understand from reading about your unfortunate histories that the adults in your life have underestimated the cruelty that Count Olaf is capable of, but I want you to understand that I will never do that. I will handle him like I would handle a dangerous animal-carefully, under a close eye." Arwen paused, and seemed to be inspecting the backs of his hands, as if looking for some defect.  
"Human hands," he said eventually, "are a miracle, the product of a billion years of tinkering''-he held up his left hand, fingers outstretched, and slowly grabbed a handfull of air-"the dexterity of movement is exquisite," he said, using a phrase which here means 'I'm going to give the Baudelaires reason to doubt my stability'.  
"They built the world, children, think about that. Or don't, really, it's immaterial. But what is not immaterial, is that ultimately, Count Olaf is here because of you, and you are the ones who have suffered under his hand. And while I would like to use him in my films, I have capable employees who could take his place. So as your guardian, I will not order you to feed Count Olaf. He is here, in the house, and if you do not feed him, he will die here. Should that happen, my employees will deal with it." Arwen stood up from the table and pushed back his chair. "I am going to my office for a moment."

Arwen left the room, leaving behind a stunned silence - a phrase which here means 'five orphans who did not know what to say or do'. Isadora was the first to speak, and she spoke quietly, as if she were afraid of her own voice.

"So, should we ... should we feed him?" she said.

Violet and Klaus looked at each other, and at the two triplets sitting opposite them.

"We couldn't-" Violet began.

"-kill Count Olaf," Klaus finished.

"Banco," said Sunny.

Violet shook her head. "No Sunny, framing him isn't the same thing at all. This is different."

"If he goes to jail for trying to murder me," said Klaus, "it is the same as if he were going to jail for all those that he really has tried to kill."

"Or killed," said Violet sadly, and when Sunny started to speak again she held up her hand to stop her. "I'm going to feed him. Count Olaf is an evil man, and I would like to see him ... gone from our lives ... but we aren't going to murder someone for revenge. We aren't those people, and Klaus, Sunny-I won't let you become those people. I promised our parents that I would look after you, and so I will. Besides, if we let him die, what could we say when one of his associates came to murder us?"

Violet scooped extra helpings of food onto her own nearly empty plate. "No reason to wash any extra dishes for that filthy man though," she said, as she stood up and made for the hallway, carrying the plate and Olaf's script, minus the optional booklet. Klaus picked up Sunny and hurried after her, leaving the Quagmires sitting at the kitchen table. Of course, the Quagmires hadn't heard Arwen's false murder proposal, and did not know which optional scene was written in the little booklets on the table.

As the Baudelaires reached the hallway, they could here the ceaseless pacing of Count Olaf around the room. The heavy-looking door, with its genuinely heavy bolt, stood resolutely guarding the man inside.

"Count Olaf?" called Violet, as she knocked on the door.

"What is it, orphan?" came the sneering voice from the other side.

"I've brought you dinner."

"Why don't you open the door and bring it inside?"

"We're not going to fall for that," said Klaus, lifting the small opening at the base of the door as Violet slid the plate and script underneath.

"What is this terrible food? I don't want to eat more orphan cooking," said Count Olaf. "And what is all this paper?"

"Arwen San Conflegro cooked it, not us," said Violet, telling a white lie. She didn't feel bad, because she only told it that Olaf may enjoy the food.

"And that's the script for Arwen San Conflegro's new movie," said Klaus, telling the truth.

"And I suppose he wants me to be the star," said the voice of Count Olaf from behind the door. "It is good to have your talent recognised."

"That's right," said Violet, also telling the truth now, though she could scarecely believe it.

"This is wonderful, not only am the star of a show, I have the orphan slaves I've always wanted. I'm being fed like a king!"

"You're being fed like a prisoner," said Klaus.

"I'm a prisoner, am I? And what about you Baudelaires? What are you? You're even lower than me, you're the prisoners who have to take care of the other prisoners because the guards are too busy."

"We're not prisoners here," said Klaus, but he felt uncertain as he remembered the feeling of reaching the front door only to find himself unable to open it.

"So you can leave at any time, then?"

"Listen Olaf," said Violet, "children don't just leave their guardians, not if things are going well. They don't want to, whether they can or they can't is irrelevant."

"And immaterial," added Klaus, using a word which here means 'irrelevant.'

"Let me tell you something I was told once by a chaperone of mine. She said, 'If you never move, you never notice your chains'."

"Just read your script, Olaf," said Violet, as she closed the hatch and turned back down the hall. Her siblings followed close behind her as they walked back into the kitchen.

When the Baudelaires returned to the kitchen, they saw the Quagmires had began to wash the dishes, and Arwen San Conflegro had returned and was sitting once more at the table.

"Oh Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaires, just to set your minds at ease I explained to Duncan and Isadora Quagmire everything about that extra little script book. I thought it was best if everything was out in the open, I hope you don't mind. We agreed that it was best to keep quiet and not speak of it until you've made your decision. We wouldn't want anything to be overheard, for example."

Violet looked at Isadora and Duncan, feeling guilty for not explaining it earlier.

"I'm sorry I didn't explain while we were in the workshop," she said to Duncan.

"And I'm sorry," Klaus said to Isadora, "that I didn't fill you in while we were in the library."

"Don't be silly," said Duncan.

"It's totally understandable," said Isadora.

The Baudelaires felt relieved, and then a little guilty again.

"And we respect that you want to make the decision yourselves - we'll say no more about it," said Duncan.

Violet and Klaus looked at each other. On the one hand, they were glad that their friends were so understanding about their omission. On the other, they were a little disappointed that the Quagmires showed no desire to help the Baudelaires decide what to do.

Readers interested in the story of the Baudelaire orphans, rather than the tangential musings of the narrator, may wish to skip the following paragraph: At this point in the narrative, I am reminded of signs-not street signs, or those used in sign language, but a broader class of signs. A sign is something with a meaning beyond itself, such as a short word which invokes a complex concept. There are two schools of thought on signs. One school considers two categories of related objects: one, signs, and two, the things that the signs signify. So a stop sign is connected to the concept of stopping your car at the intersection. The sign, and the concept it refers to. But, as with everything, there is another school of thought. This second school of thought holds that there are three players in the sign game. there is the sign, the thing that it signifies, and the person that it is signifying the thing to. To know what the sign is supposed to signify, you need to know the context of who is receiving the sign. If two people receive the same sign, it doesn't mean that the sign will be signifying the same things to both of them. At this point, you might sigh, and decide you're sick of signs. If that's the case, then I'm sorry to have bored you, but I did warn you.

If you skipped the previous paragraph, welcome back. Just so you don't miss anything, the point of the last paragraph, which was about signs (but not necessarily street signs or those used in sign language). The lesson from it was that just because you think somebody is thinking the same thing as you, doesn't mean that they are, even if they think they're thinking the same thing as you.

"Before I go to bed, I need to brief you on the state of the script," said Arwen San Conflegro, interrupting the tangential musings of the narrator. "Filming is starting very soon indeed-in fact, tomorrow morning. First of all, I need you to look at scene one. Duncan Quagmire, Isadora Quagmire-leave the dishes for the time being and come and sit at the table. That's the way," he said as they sat down. "Now look at scene one, at sea. You all need to get started immediately. Klaus-the script needs to be updated to include realistic dialogue between the sailors, you need to research nautical terms in the library. Violet-the submarine hatch is broken, and as you can see here at line 75, it's a very important prop. I need you to fix it. Sunny-the sailors need to be eating realistic sea-dishes like fried fish and sauteed seagull. Quagmires! You have to learn your lines for this important scene on page 12, and help Klaus and Violet with their research and repairwork respectively. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go and work on the film too. Good night, Violet Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, and good night Duncan and Isadora Quagmire, and good night to all the people who we hope to see again, and those we know we won't."


End file.
